


Useless Desires

by enigmaticblue



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-31
Updated: 2004-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:12:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 83,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike returns to Sunnydale after news of Buffy's death reaches him, only to find that everything has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic mentions child abuse, rape, prostitution, and self-mutilation, but there are no graphic descriptions.

**Prologue**

“When we treat a man as he is, we make him worse than he is; when we treat him as if he already were what he potentially could be, we make him what he should be.” ~Goethe

Leaving felt different this time. Before, it had always had the flavor of a bad melodrama, all sweeping gestures and threats to return—if not literally then at least in his head. This time, Spike truly believed he was leaving for good.

More than that, he felt it.

He stood astride his bike, chest heaving in unnecessary gasps, sick to his stomach, as impossible as that seemed. Soulless vampires did not feel guilt, remorse, shame, or any of the other emotions that were twisting his insides into knots.

It was unfair, he decided. Completely unfair. It wasn’t as though he’d done anything wrong. So he and Anya had sex. So what? They were demons, unattached—and because other people had detatched from them, not because they’d wanted it that way. The sex had been comfort, and it had been—nice.

Nice not to have to battle for dominance, nice to know his partner wasn’t going to proceed to rip out his heart in the postcoital afterglow. Nice to be appreciated as a guy who smelled nice and made sure the woman in question was happy.

What does he get for it? An attempt on his unlife by Xander and a dressing-down by Dawn—who didn’t know the half of it. Spike was fairly certain that if Dawn knew exactly what had been going on these last months, she’d have been more sympathetic, but he had more class than to tell the girl he’d been shagging her sister. It wasn’t his place.

The Niblet had said Buffy was upset, though, and that had sent him over to talk to Buffy, to apologize.

Never mind that he didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

She’d hurt herself. Spike had seen it immediately. He should have waited. Waited till he was completely sober, at least. No point in waiting until she was ready to listen, since that would be the day after never.

He hadn’t gone over there to hurt her—that had been the farthest thing from his mind. And then she’d accused him of trying to put a spell on her, and she wouldn’t tell him why she hadn’t let Xander kill him.

“You know why,” she’d said. What kind of bullshit was that?

Spike thought maybe he could get her to admit it if he could just get her to feel. If he could just put his hands on her, he could make her crazy in the best of ways.

The first “no” hadn’t registered. Or it had, but she’d said it so many times before and hadn’t meant it that he’d thought it was another game. Buffy was always messing with his head.

The second time she’d said it, though—it was the tone. His hands had been more forceful, and he’d touched warm skin, and he just wanted to make her feel it again. He was desperate to make her feel it—to make her admit that she loved him.

Why else would she have saved his life?

Buffy had managed to shove him back, falling to the floor in the process, overbalanced and hurt as she’d been. He had stumbled back against the door, realizing belatedly that she had meant this no. What made it worse was that he hadn’t truly wanted to stop. He still believed that he could make her feel it if she would only let him.

There had been only one rule that Spike had lived by all his life and unlife. He didn’t hurt the girl—not the one he loved. Not if he could help it.

Tonight, though, Spike had wanted Buffy to admit that she had feelings for him. Not that she loved him even, just that she cared. All he wanted was one crumb—and he’d been willing to take it by force.

They had both stood, horrified by what had almost happened—Spike even more so than Buffy. He had managed to gasp out an apology, but the Slayer wasn’t having any of it.

Spike closed his eyes, remembering their last words.

“Buffy, I’m sorry—”

“Just go, Spike.”

“I will. I have to.” A pause. “I’m leaving.”

“You should.”

“For good, Slayer. I’m leaving for good. I can’t—”

There were no more words after that. Buffy had stared at him with those huge, accusing eyes of hers—and Spike saw himself truly for the first time. He was a monster. Not just that others thought of him as a monster, but that he truly was one.

Spike had very nearly raped the woman he loved—and he hated that he was capable of that.

He wanted to blame Buffy. Wanted to blame her for playing with him, for using him, but that was pointless. Spike had allowed himself to be used, and it hadn’t been all bad. Spike had played the games too, and had enjoyed some of them.

No, it was him, and it was time to leave. Spike couldn’t stay, not when he was becoming the very thing he’d sworn to Buffy he never would be.

It was time to figure out who he was again.**Chapter 1**

“These are the tears of things, and the stuff of our mortality cuts us to the heart.” ~Virgil

Spike ran over the “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign because it was tradition at this point. In the past it had been because it looked like fun, or because he was drunk, or the previous time because he wanted to point out that he was back in town to anyone who cared. (No one really had.)

This time, however, there was no more Slayer to care, no one to notice except for the rather inept Sunnydale PD. Tim got a laugh out of it, however, so maybe that was something.

His companion looked around at the dimly lit streets as Spike pointed the nose of the Mustang towards the Magic Box. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“It’s not,” Spike agreed. He had no problem remembering where to go. Everything about this little hellhole had been burned on his brain, never to be forgotten.

Tim glanced over at the vampire. “So, what? We’re here to see the grave of some dead chick, and then do…what?”

“She’s not ‘some dead chick,’” Spike replied as evenly as he could, although a thin thread of anger could be heard in his voice. “She was the Slayer—the best that ever lived.”

Tim frowned, hearing in Spike’s voice something he’d never heard before. “You’re in love with her.”

“I was.”

The young man decided not to argue verb tenses. “Yeah, okay. But then what?”

“What’s the problem?” Spike asked, looking over at him. “You got somewhere to be?”

Tim shrugged. “No, it’s just—Forget it.”

“Not goin’ to forget it,” Spike replied. “Something’s botherin’ you.”

“You think we could maybe stay somewhere for a while?” Tim asked. “Not forever, maybe, but—we’ve been going for weeks now.”

Spike had to acknowledge the truth of that statement. They’d been on the move almost constantly for the last three years, going from place to place without any goal in mind. The vampire had to admit that he didn’t think the boy would stick it out with him for this long, but Tim was a trooper, and had for some reason attached himself like a limpet.

It had been decidedly odd for Spike to find that he had an innate need to take care of something or someone. He’d found himself collecting strays—the odd cat here, a stray dog there. There was never any formal arrangement, but he left food out for them, and they in turn followed him around.

Of course, when it was time to move on, it was infinitely easier to leave the cats and dogs behind than it was a human stray.

But Spike didn’t mind Tim’s company so much. They liked the same kinds of music and the same kinds of video games. Plus, it was nice to have someone to talk to over the long miles. Driving down the East coast, through Florida and along the Gulf of Mexico, then across the Southwest to California—even the most interesting of scenery got boring after a while. Especially when most of the time you’re driving after dark by necessity.

It was while they were in New Orleans that they heard the news. Spike actually liked it there—plenty of things to do, places to get lost in. There were demons to swindle and damsels to save, and a few of those women had welcomed him with open arms and rounded softness.

It was a way to forget.

Five months, and no thoughts of moving on, until the word had come—been whispered in back alleys and demon bars—the Slayer was dead. Both of them.

Spike had found Tim and gave him the choice of staying. He wasn’t surprised when the boy had simply started packing, in spite of the crowd of friends he’d found.

For whatever reason, the boy had decided that Spike meant home, and where Spike went he followed. Human strays weren’t so different after all.

So they’d headed out for Sunnydale, California, two guys and a yellow dog Tim had named Luz. Spike had tried to explain that one didn’t name stray animals, mostly because it usually meant you were going to keep them, and they couldn’t. Tim, as usual, did what he wanted, and Luz was not left behind.

Which was why Spike was returning to a town he hated with a young man and a dog in tow.

They wouldn’t stay here, he knew. All he wanted was to visit Buffy’s grave, to whisper his farewell, to tell her he was sorry for not coming back. He’d thought—never mind what he thought. It had been for the best. That much he was certain of.

Maybe L.A., Spike thought to himself, as he pulled up outside the Magic Box. Or they could go farther north, up the coast to San Francisco or even father to Seattle or Portland. The hazy weather was a vampire’s dream climate. He could see Tim settled, maybe convince him to go back to school. The kid was smart when he wanted to be.

They could have a life. Tim deserved it.

Spike could hardly bear to think it, but he could move on now that Buffy was dead. The holding pattern was over; there was no hope for the future. He would see her final resting place, and he would leave his useless desires there.

It was time.

~~~~~

Tim wasn’t sure what the big deal was about Sunnydale. Spike had been hell-bent on getting to the small town from the moment he’d heard the news that the girl with the strange name had died. Seriously, who named their kid Buffy?

Spike wouldn’t say much about Sunnydale, no matter how many questions he asked. All Spike would say was that he’d spent the worst years of his unlife there and not to ask so many questions.

There had to be _something_ good that happened, though, for the vampire to want to get back so badly to see somebody’s grave. Spike hadn’t even said anything about her until he’d found out she was dead, and then it was only that he had to go and did Tim want to come?

He’d laughed at the question, then he’d started to pack.

There were two things that Tim was certain of: life sucked—and life was better while he was around Spike.

One thing was for sure at least. No one tried to mess with him anymore. That alone would persuade him to stay.

Besides, Spike needed him.

Even though the vampire hadn’t been very positive about his experiences in Sunnydale, Tim was still unprepared for the reception they got when they walked through the door of the Magic Box.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The speaker was tall, dark haired, and kind of meaty. If Tim had to make a guess, he’d say the guy was in construction or one of the trades. He was also advancing on the two of them with a stake in hand.

Surprisingly, Spike didn’t move a muscle. “Xander.”

Tim frowned, waiting for the vampire to say something—do something. Surely he wasn’t going to just stand there and let the guy stake him.

“Why the hell did you have to come back?” Xander asked bitterly. “Couldn’t you have done us all a favor and stayed away?”

Spike shrugged, just a small movement. “I heard about Buffy. I wanted to pay my respects.”

The sneer on Xander’s face was ugly. “Well, you came, you paid them, now you can take your friend and leave. You’re not welcome here.”

“I want to see her grave,” Spike said stolidly.

“So you can dance on it?” Xander demanded, his voice shaky, angry, icy with grief. “Forget it, Spike. Just get out of town.”

Tim watched as a muscle in Spike’s jaw jumped, and then he gave a tight nod and turned to go. The boy was flabbergasted. He was used to people giving him the cold shoulder when he entered a shop. Used to being followed around by the employees for fear that he was going to carry off their goods because of the way he looked. Spike, of the two of them, got more respect, more deference—except, obviously, for this little hellhole of a town.

Grabbing Spike’s arm, Tim shook his head. “Spike! We just drove five days to get here so you could see this girl’s grave! You aren’t going to let this idiot chase you off, right?”

“Let it go, Tim,” Spike commanded quietly.

Xander laughed. It was not a nice sound. “I see it’s not only the ladies you can charm, _William_.”

There was innuendo there, and while it was aimed mostly at Spike for whatever history lay between the two men, Tim saw red. “You don’t know jack-shit about this!” he burst out angrily. “You don’t know sod-all about us, either! You can keep your dirty mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you!”

“Tim, lad, it’s okay,” Spike said quietly, trying to calm him, the same voice he had when the nightmares got bad. When he’d bathed his hurts that day—“Whelp’s just mouthin’ off to me. ‘s nothin’ to do with you.”

Xander seemed taken aback by this (obviously) human boy’s rage. He was himself a little crazy from grief and guilt and so he spoke again when he should have kept his mouth shut. “You want to try something? You think Spike’s gonna be able to help you against a human? I’ll wipe the floor with you, you little—”

Whatever else he might have said was cut off by a strong hand closing over his throat. Xander hadn’t even seen Spike move. “You touch a hair on the boy’s head and I’ll have your balls in my hand,” the vampire said quietly. “Chip’s gone, Harris. Nothing is stoppin’ me from rippin’ out your soddin’ throat right now.”

Spike released the other man impatiently. “Look, Whelp, I know you hate me. Just tell me where she is an’ we’ll be out of your hair. Preferably by sun-up.”

Tim and Spike both often wondered what might have happened if Xander had simply told them—if they had left just a few moments earlier.

Fate can be a tricky bitch at times.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

“Death is more universal than life. Everyone dies; not everyone lives.” ~A. Sachs

For just a split second, Spike thought it was _her_. Of course, _her_ hair was a brighter gold, _her_ form more slender, shorter. The vampire had been seeing _her_ on every street corner, in the face of every blonde woman who passed by.

It was only a split second since _she_ had never greeted him that kindly. “Spike! It’s good to see you again.”

The funny thing was, Tara actually sounded as though she meant it. Which made Spike glad to see her, even though he hadn’t given the woman a second thought since leaving Sunnydale. “Glinda. You’re lookin’ good.”

“Spike, you—” Xander was interrupted by Tara’s calm voice.

“Thank you for coming by tonight, Xander, but I think I’ll let Spike walk me home.”

Spike wasn’t sure if he or Xander were more surprised by Tara’s statement. The vampire wasn’t certain that he wanted to walk anyone home. Xander knew he didn’t want to leave Tara at the mercy of an unchipped vampire. “Tara, I don’t think—”

“I do,” Tara said, her voice firm. Spike could hear a thin thread of steel that he’d never heard in her before. “I’ll see you soon, Xander.”

Things had changed in Sunnydale, that much was obvious when Xander nodded shortly and left. Tara turned to look at Spike. “How are you?”

Spike shrugged. “Well as can be expected.” Remembering his manners—the few that he had, at least—he jerked his head towards Tim. “This is Tim. Friend of mine. Tim, this is Tara.”

To Tim’s surprise, the woman held out her hand, giving him a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” She refocused on Spike. “Do you want to see her?”

The vampire didn’t ask how she knew; Tara was a sharp one, he’d always known that. “Be nice.”

There was little conversation on the way to the gravesite. In a town the size of Sunnydale, the trip only took a few moments anyway. Tim sensed Spike’s need for stillness, as did Tara, and both respected that in their own way.

Spike parked the car and then they walked the rest of the way to the grave, both the vampire and Tim carrying stakes. The other two hung back as Spike approached the tombstone, switching the weapon from his left to his right hand.

They had buried her beside her mother, Spike realized. It was significant, since last time the grave had been secret, tucked away. This time it was out in the open, public—a tacit acknowledgement that the Slayer would not be coming back. With reverent fingers, he traced the letters of her name, the dates that marked the beginning and end of her life. He murmured his goodbye, barely aware of the words he spoke.

Spike remembered everything—every word, every act. He had lived for this woman, and now she was gone. Even though it had been years since he’d seen her, there was still an emptiness now that he knew she was gone permanently.

A wet nose nudged itself under his hand, and Spike turned to look at Luz, who whined as though sensing his mood. Spike sighed and scratched behind her ears. “Yeah,” he murmured, touching the tombstone in a final benediction. “’s time to go.”

Tara spoke as he stood. “Do you have a place to stay tonight, Spike?”

“Thought ‘bout getting a hotel room.” The vampire shrugged. “Wasn’t plannin’ on stayin’ in town all that long.”

She smiled at him. “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight? I have a spare room, and the couch is comfortable.”

“What about Luz?” Tim asked.

“Luz is welcome,” Tara replied. “I don’t have a cat at the moment, so it should be fine.”

~~~~~

Spike sat at Tara’s kitchen table and watched her make tea. Tim had been yawning in the car on the way over, and so he’d taken the guest room, Luz curling up on the floor next to his bed. The witch had offered him tea, and Spike had accepted. He found himself hungry for news, wanting to know what exactly had happened to the Slayer.

She placed a cup down in front of him and took her own seat. “When did you get it?”

“Get what?”

“The soul.”

Spike supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Tara knew, but he was. “How did you know?”

“It’s not hard to see it once you know what to look for.” She regarded him calmly for a long moment. “So?”

“After—” Spike sighed. “Did Buffy tell you…”

“She told me,” Tara replied. “No one else knows, but she told me later.”

He nodded. “After that. Heard about a demon in Africa who could grant wishes for a price. Paid his toll an’ made my wish.”

“What did you wish for?”

Such a simple question, but it was not so easily answered, even though every word had been burned into his memory. “To be what I had been, an’ to be what I wanted to be. Not real specific, I know, but I was in a lot of pain at the time.”

Tara had to bite back a chuckle. Knowing Spike as she did, she had a sneaking suspicion that his words were an understatement. “So you got the chip out and the soul in.”

“Pretty much.”

“And Tim?”

“Met him just before I went over there. Ran into him again after I got back.” Spike gave her an eloquent shrug. “Boy needed someone to look after him, an’ I found myself in a position to do it.” The vampire met her eyes. “Dawn?”

“She stayed with me for a while right after Buffy died,” Tara replied quietly. “Dawn has her own place now near campus. She’d want to see you, Spike.”

“Doubt it,” Spike replied. “Not after the way we left things. Where’s Red? Would have thought she’d be ‘round here somewhere.”

Tara shook her head. “She went back to England with Giles after the funeral. She’s doing better, but—”

Left unstated was the fact that no one wanted Willow too sorely tempted. Not that she would make the same mistake twice, but there was no sense in putting her within arm’s length of the Slayer’s grave. “You joinin’ her any time soon?”

Tara laughed a little and shook her head. “No, Spike, we haven’t been together for a long time. Not since right after you left.” When his eyebrow went up in a silent question, Tara looked away. “After you left, things got—crazy. Warren shot Buffy and me. I was lucky. If the bullet had been just another inch to the right—Anyway, Buffy nearly died, and I was in surgery for a while. By the time I came out of it, and they knew I was going to recover, Willow had used the magic to heal Buffy. She just went—I don’t know.”

“She was drunk on power,” Spike said quietly. At Tara’s surprised expression, his lips twisted. “I’ve seen it before, Glinda, an’ I saw it in Red before I left. Girl needed to feel like she was the one in control. Not surprised things got out of hand.”

“No, I’m not either,” Tara admitted. “Anyway, she killed Warren and nearly ended the world before Xander could stop her. Giles took her to a coven in England to learn how to deal with the magic the right way. And when she came back, things just weren’t the same.”

“I would imagine not,” Spike agreed.

Tara found herself watching him. She hadn’t been terribly surprised to see him in the Magic Box. Of all of them, she had been the one to realize how deep Spike’s feelings for the Slayer went, and she had suspected that Spike would show up soon after her death. It had been five months, but it wasn’t as though anyone had sent him a message.

She had always had a secret sympathy for the vampire. Maybe it started when he’d hit her in the nose, thus proving she wasn’t a demon. Maybe it had everything to do with the summer that Buffy had been gone, and she had watched him taking care of Dawn and mourning Buffy. They had not done well by him.

Of course, in the end, the gang hadn’t done all that well by her or Anya either. The Scoobies had their own charmed circle, and it was impossible to break into it.

Outwardly, little had changed. His hair was still bleached, although it wasn’t so short or slicked back. He still wore his duster; he still sat with careless abandon, sprawled out in his chair. The change was in the aura and in the eyes. There was a depth to him that hadn’t been there before.

“How long will you stay?”

Spike shrugged. “Dunno. Hadn’t planned on staying at all. I was goin’ to pay my respects then leave, maybe for L.A. Tim said he wanted to stay somewhere for a while.”

“Why not stay here?” Tara suggested. Spike’s head shot up in surprise. “Dawn needs you, Spike, and so does Sunnydale.”

He scoffed. “Right, because they needed me so much before. You’ve got a new Slayer, Glinda. Let her do her job.”

Tara’s look quelled him. “Spike, the new Slayer lives in India, and apparently they’ve got a Hellmouth there for her to take care of. Besides, Dawn—” She hesitated. “Dawn’s in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The same kind of trouble I was in after my mother died,” Tara replied. “She doesn’t think it matters anymore. Maybe if you—”

“Take care of her like I did that summer?” Spike asked incredulously. “’s been years since I’ve seen her, Glinda, an’ we didn’t part on good terms. ‘s not my responsibility.”

“No, it’s not,” Tara agreed. “But she listened to you, Spike. She might listen again. Or, at least it might help to know that you still care.” She raised an eyebrow. “_If_ you still care.”

“I care,” he replied, sounding surly. “’course I care. She was mine as much as anybody’s. Don’t know as she’ll listen to me, though.”

Tara sighed. “I’m not sure that it matters, Spike. If she knows you’re here, maybe that will be enough.”

Spike shook his head, not at all convinced. “I’ll stick around for a bit then, Glinda. Not makin’ any promises, mind you, but I’ll stick around to see what comes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**“It is easier to forgive an enemy than it is to forgive a friend.” ~William Blake**

Tim was used to waking up in new places and different beds. Waking up in Tara’s guest room was rather pleasant. He’d noticed the night before that her place smelled fresh, like herbs, and she had been as welcoming as anyone he and Spike had met on their travels.

He trusted his nose. Tim appreciated a place that smelled sweet and clean; he’d been in plenty of places that didn’t.

It was strange, however, to stumble out to the kitchen and find Tara brewing coffee, and she greeted both him and Luz with a warm smile. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Tim watched her warily. He wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, although it was appreciated. “Uh, do you have a dish or something I could use? I’ve got food for Luz in the car, but…”

“I’ll find something,” Tara replied. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Please.” Tim ordered the dog to stay, and she flopped down under the table with a heavy sigh, which made Tara chuckle.

When Tim came in with a bag of dog food, Tara was scratching an appreciative Luz behind the ears while the dog tried to lick her hand. “She’s a good dog.”

“She is,” he agreed, pouring the dog food into the dish that Tara had set out. “Spike didn’t want to keep her, but I convinced him to bring her with us when we left New York.”

“Is that where you’re from?” Tara asked.

Tim shrugged. “Born and raised.”

Tara reflected that she should have known from his accent, but the young man had been largely silent up to now. His dark hair was cut short, although it still managed to look shaggy. Bright yellow-green eyes watched her warily, deep-set in a swarthy face. He had some Italian blood, if Tara didn’t miss her guess. There was pain there, more than seemed possible for a young man of no more than twenty.

Her eyes were drawn of their own accord to his stomach, where an intricate design was etched in color into his skin. Tim scratched his head self-consciously. “I can put on a shirt.”

Tara shrugged. “If you want. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Okay.” He shifted from foot to foot, taking the cup of coffee she held out, looking everywhere but at her. Tara just watched him, taking in the tattoos and piercings—the tough image and vulnerable eyes. In that, at least, Tim reminded her of Spike.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“Uh, if you’ve got something handy. I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

Tara smiled. “It’s no trouble. I enjoy cooking.”

“Okay then.” Tim sat down with his coffee, watching Tara intently. “How long have you and Spike known each other?”

“A few years,” she replied, beginning to whip up the pancake batter. Tara paused to think, trying to come up with a more exact timeframe. “Actually, we first met eight years ago.”

“Oh.” Tim wondered what it was that had brought Spike and this gentle woman together, how they had known each other, why the man they’d seen at the shop had been so willing to kill him.

“He punched me in the nose.”

“Oh.” He blinked, trying to imagine that.

Tara smiled at his tone. “Spike did it to prove I wasn’t a demon. You know about the chip?”

“The chip?” Tim asked. He really knew next to nothing about Spike. The few times he’d tried to ask questions, the vampire had shut him down completely, and Tim was too grateful for everything Spike had done for him to push it.

“It kept him from hurting humans,” Tara explained. “Before he had his soul.”

Tim did know about the soul. Spike had to give him some explanation for why other vampires wanted to munch on him and he didn’t. “That’s kind of cool,” he commented. “So you guys were friends then?”

“No.” Tara frowned. “Spike wasn’t really friends with anyone except Dawn or Buffy. It was more that we had mutual friends.”

“Tellin’ all my secrets now, Glinda?” Spike asked, ambling into the kitchen. He tossed a shirt at Tim’s head. “Doubt the girl wants to see all your pretty pictures, lad.”

Tim frowned. “She said she didn’t mind,” he replied, pulling the shirt over his head anyway.

“I don’t mind,” Tara said, a smile hovering around the edges of her lips.

“She’s making breakfast,” Tim pointed out.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I make breakfast.”

“Once in a blue moon.”

“So?”

“Tara’s making breakfast.”

“Rounds or funny shapes?” Tara asked, interrupting the little spat. She was trying (unsuccessfully) to hide a grin. Spike and Tim sounded like brothers, which she found highly amusing.

Tim frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Rounds or funny shapes?” Tara repeated patiently. “Hasn’t anyone ever made funny shaped pancakes for you before?”

“No one’s ever made me pancakes before,” Tim replied. “Except in restaurants where you don’t get a choice.”

“Spike didn’t make pancakes for you?”

“I make eggs,” Spike defended himself. “And waffles.”

“Eggo waffles,” Tim pointed out.

“Then you need to have funny shaped pancakes,” Tara decided. “Dawn always thought they tasted better that way.”

“Alright,” Tim agreed, willing to try anything.

Tara started pouring the batter into the pan, glancing back at Spike. “I thought I’d call Dawn this morning and invite her for dinner tonight.”

“Whatever,” Spike said, rather ungraciously.

Tim frowned. “Are we staying?”

“For a while,” Spike said. “Seems I’m needed for the moment.”

Tim wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Staying in New Orleans had been one thing; there were plenty of people and lots of things to do there. Here in Sunnydale the options were much more limited. “We gonna have to find a place to stay?”

“You both can stay here for as long as you need,” Tara offered. Then, looking at Tim, she said, “If you want a job for a while, I could use some help in the Magic Box. I’m running it alone right now.”

It wasn’t as though Tim had never worked, although his jobs were never of the type that were strictly legal. On the other hand, he wanted to get some more work done on his tattoos, and that required ready money.

Plus, there was the fact that he wanted to be able to help Spike for once, rather than relying on the vampire for everything.

“That could be alright,” he allowed, glancing over at Spike, who shrugged.

“Do what you like, Tim,” Spike said. “You do anyway,” he muttered under his breath.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Just because you think tattoos are stupid—”

“I never said that,” Spike replied, his voice raising just a bit. It was obvious to Tara that the two had had this conversation a number of times before. “I just pointed out that you have to live with them for the rest of your life.”

“Which might not be that much longer,” Tim replied. Tara noticed that argument shut Spike up quickly, although she could see the flash of pain in the vampire’s eyes.

Spike got up from the table abruptly. “Think I’ll catch a few more hours sleep if you two are leavin’.” The slamming of the bedroom door punctuated his comment.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Tara said quietly.

Tim glanced up at her. “What?”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she repeated. “Spike cares about you.”

“Spike took me in because he felt like it was his responsibility,” Tim stated bluntly. “He’d have left me behind a long time ago if I hadn’t followed him.”

Tara shook her head, touching the boy gently on the cheek. So tough—so vulnerable. “Spike doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do,” she said quietly. “That much hasn’t changed.”

~~~~~

Dawn entered the Magic Box in something of a funk. Well, it was probably a hangover, but she’d needed to have some fun the night before, and the jello shots had _seemed_ like a good idea at the time. It just figured that Tara would pick today to have dinner, when Tara would take one look at her and know she’d been drinking.

Tara was really the only one who cared one way or the other at this point, of course. Giles and Willow—who might have said something—were in merry old England, doing their own thing. Now that Buffy was gone, there was nothing keeping them here in Sunnydale. And Xander had his own problems with drowning his sorrows. In fact, he probably would join her if he could ever get over the fact that he was drinking with Buffy’s little sister.

Tucking her hair behind her ears impatiently, Dawn blew out her breath, steeling herself for the lecture she knew was coming.

Except that Tara was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, a guy about her own age lounged behind the counter, a worn paperback in his hand. He glanced up as the bell above the door rang and smiled at her a little uncertainly. “Can I help you?”

Dawn found herself unexpectedly angry that Tara had hired someone to work in the Magic Box without even saying anything to her. The witch had asked her if she wanted the job just the week before, and Dawn had turned her down flat, but she hadn’t expected Tara to go out and find someone else. “Where’s Tara?”

“In the back, I think,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. Dawn thought he might have been cute, except for all the tattoos he had. The piercings—one through his eyebrow, both ears and one right below his lower lip—were cool, though. “Do you need help finding something?”

“I need to find Tara,” Dawn replied huffily. “She’s a friend.”

“Oh, okay.” Tim knew this girl was angry, though he had no idea why. “I’ll see if I can find her. Luz, stay,” he ordered, and walked toward the back.

Dawn watched him go, admiring the way his ass looked in jeans. He might make for an interesting time.

Tara followed him out a few moments later, and her warm greeting dimmed a bit as she noticed Dawn’s red eyes and pallor. “Hey, Dawnie. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Dawn said, a note of impatience in her voice. “Really. How are you?” She glanced over at Tim, who had ensconced himself behind the counter again and was making a serious effort to ignore their conversation.

“I’m good,” Tara replied easily. “I have some news. Spike’s back in town.”

For one, brief moment, Dawn’s heart leapt. And then she remembered that she was supposed to be pissed off at him for leaving as he had. “So what?”

Tara frowned. “Dawn—”

“He left, Tara,” she said quickly. “He should have stayed gone.”

“He still cares,” Tara said quietly, pulling her away from the counter. “Besides, you don’t know everything, Dawnie. Spike had his reasons for leaving.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Right. Everybody has a reason to go. Well, it’s just too bad that he didn’t see fit to fill me in.”

Tara frowned at her, disappointment sparking in her eyes. It was an expression Dawn was getting used to. “Then maybe you should give him a chance. Spike’s going to be around for a while.”

“Oh, really?” Dawn said. “Until when? Until he gets tired of Sunnydale and leaves without saying anything again? Forget it, Tara, I don’t want to see him.”

“You don’t know him anymore,” Tim spoke up from behind the counter, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. “You don’t know anything about him.”

Dawn stared at him. “He left me and my sister when we needed him. That’s all I need to know.”

Tim frowned, wanting to reply, and not knowing what to say. “You don’t know him,” he repeated.

“And you do?” Dawn asked archly, angrily. Like she needed some punk kid to tell her how to feel about Spike.

Tim was rapidly coming to the conclusion that this girl was a bitch and that Spike really didn’t need her attitude. “Considering that I’ve lived with him for the last five years, yeah.”

Dawn was pissed off—and jealous. Spike was her friend; he’d been her surrogate brother at one time. The fact that he’d been taking care of someone else, when Buffy might have used his services, really made her angry. If Spike had stayed in Sunnydale, the Slayer might not have been killed. “Fine, whatever. I don’t want to see him.”

“Come to dinner tonight, Dawn,” Tara said, and there was a calm command in her voice. “We’ll be eating at seven.”

Dawn looked away, biting her lip, torn between telling Tara she could go to hell and obeying. The witch was the only one who even pretended to look after her anymore, and so she was hesitant to brush her off completely. “I’ll see you at seven,” Dawn finally said, turning to sweep out of the shop.

Tim watched her go and then turned to Tara. “Is she always like that?”

“She’s had a rough time.”

The boy frowned. “So what? There are other people whose lives suck, and they don’t act that bitchy.”

Tara sighed. That was true enough. She herself had her own burdens to bear, her own pain to deal with, and Dawn seemed bent on ignoring everyone’s stuggles but her own. Rightly or wrongly, Tara knew that Dawn would have to let go one of these days.


	4. Chapter 4

**“Guard well within yourself that treasure, kindness. Know how to live without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness.” ~George Sand**

Spike dug through his bag without success. Never one to carry much around in the way of clothing, he was all out. He’d need to do laundry soon, but for the moment, he had no problem borrowing one of Tim’s.

It was a good thing they were approximately the same size, Spike reflected. At least in shirt size. The young man had a good couple inches on him, which meant shirts were about the only clothing they exchanged.

Pulling out a long sleeved red t-shirt, he pulled it over his head, looking over his shoulder as Tim entered the room. “Tara stopped and got fresh blood for you.”

“Good. How was work?”

“Fine. Work.” Tim sat down on the bed and watched the vampire. He’d learned over the years to read his moods, and he could tell that Spike was agitated and nervous. “Spike? Were you and Tara ever—you know?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Well, I know you and the Slayer were involved, but I just wondered about you and Tara.”

“She’s gay.”

“I know that,” Tim said, exasperated. “So what? Maybe she liked guys at one point.”

Spike sat back, the hint of a smile playing around his mouth, even though he was doing his best to appear mortally offended. “You’re sayin’ that I turned her off boys?”

“No!” Tim shrugged. “It’s just—you guys just seem close or something, and she said you weren’t really friends, so…”

“’s difficult to explain,” Spike said, thinking back. How to explain the group dynamics of Buffy and her gang of do-gooders to someone who hadn’t been there? That he and Tara had both been on the edges, although in very different ways? “We were—in the same boat, I s’pose. An’ I always liked her. She’s a real lady.”

Tim hadn’t had the chance to meet very many of those, but he had to agree. “And Dawn?”

“She was mine,” Spike murmured softly. Dawn was, perhaps, his greatest regret. He often wondered what might have happened if they’d manage to keep the closeness they’d shared that summer. If, instead of being so focused on Buffy, he’d saved his attentions for the Summers who loved him.

Looking back, Spike knew he’d screwed up. He certainly shouldn’t have allowed Buffy to prevent him from seeing Dawn. He should have been just as intent on that relationship as on the one with Buffy. But he’d been in love—obsessed, really, and right up until that last night he’d had every hope of making things work.

Then again, if things hadn’t worked out the way they had, he would never have met Tim, who needed him. That, at least, was something.

“If you want me to go somewhere, I can,” Tim offered quietly. “I mean, if you need alone time with them or something.”

Spike looked over at him in surprise, realizing that Tim believed he was going to abandon ship. “That won’t be necessary,” he assured him. “I haven’t always been able to keep my promises, lad, but I try.”

Tim ducked his head and looked away, remembering the night that Spike had promised to take care of him. The night the vampire had sat with him until dawn and beyond, wanting to ensure he didn’t make a stupid mistake. It had been that more than anything that had kept Tim alive—Spike’s constant presence. That someone cared had been a miracle in its own right.

“Yeah, it’s cool. I just thought—” He sighed. “We staying here?”

“For a while,” Spike replied. “Have to start looking for our own place pretty soon. We can’t rely on Glinda’s good graces forever.”

Tim fiddled with the frayed hem on his jeans. “It has to be a place that lets us keep Luz.”

Spike shook his head, amused, glancing over at the dog—Tim’s constant shadow. “She’s come with us this far. Not like we’re going to leave her behind now.”

“Okay,” Tim said, relieved.

Spike sighed. “Lad, I’m not goin’ to get rid of you. We’re both too bloody stubborn for that. Whatever happens here in Sunnydale has nothin’ to do with the two of us.”

That, at least, Tim could believe. What lay between the two of them could only be measured in thousands of miles and long years, in the scars that lay thick on his skin. In memories best left to the dirty alleys where they were formed. They were tied together by blood, both his own and others’.

Spike had killed for him. It meant something.

“Yeah, it’s just—” Tim sighed, wondering how to explain. “You know.”

Spike knew. Things changed, people changed—and suddenly the ground you thought was solid beneath you was nothing but quick sand. “This town does things to you, but I’ve developed an immunity.”

Tim grinned. “Then you’ll have to pass your secret on to me.”

“Stick close, lad,” Spike replied. “Just stick close.”

~~~~~

When Dawn came through the door, Spike could immediately tell that she was ready to fight.

And she was so grown up.

Sometime during the last few years, the promise of womanhood had reached its fruition. She was tall and willowy, her hair as long as ever. Her clothing and make-up suggested that she more than knew it, however. It screamed that she capitalized on it.

If Spike didn’t miss his guess, little Dawnie had turned into a man-eater.

Her voice and eyes were cold when she spotted him. “Spike.”

“Dawn.” He matched her tone. Spike loved her, but he understood the bitterness that time could foster. She could forgive him or not; it was up to her. “How have you been?”

“How do you think?” she asked. Her face softened slightly when she saw Tara coming out of the kitchen. “Hey, Tara.”

“Hello, Dawn.” Tara gave her a warm hug, glancing over her shoulder at Tim, who had been drafted to help with dinner. “You already met Tim this afternoon.”

Dawn’s look weighed and dismissed him in the same breath. “Yeah. He’s staying here too?”

“I’m with Spike,” Tim replied. He turned and went back into the kitchen, already tired of the girl’s attitude. She brought back bad memories.

Dawn’s gaze went back to Spike. “You look the same.”

“Vampire,” he said, almost apologetically. “We don’t age.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. So why did you come back?”

“Wanted to say goodbye.”

Angered by his even tone, Dawn snapped, “I thought you already did that when you left.”

“Dawn—”

She ignored Tara’s warning. “If you had stayed, my sister would still be alive.”

It was an unfair accusation; after all, the Slayer had been killed in spite of Spike’s best efforts once before. There was no reason that he would have been able to prevent her death this time. “Maybe,” was all Spike said to that, keeping the same calm as before.

“Why don’t you two go out to the back porch to talk?” Tara suggested gently. “Dinner will be ready in a little while.”

Spike followed Dawn out to the back, wondering at how much like her sister she had turned out—in mannerisms if not in looks. “Why did you leave?”

Something in her tone had softened, and Spike could hear it, the hurt that had been hidden under bitterness and anger. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s what you said before,” Dawn snapped. “I think I’m old enough to handle the truth now.”

“Buffy and I had a fight,” Spike said. “It got ugly, an’ it was time for me to go.”

She shook her head. “You guys had lots of fights, Spike. You didn’t leave after you chained her up in your crypt. I don’t see why—”

“The Slayer an’ I were sleepin’ together,” Spike interrupted. “Then she broke it off, an’ I couldn’t stand her yankin’ me around. That’s what happened.”

“No!” Dawn protested. “Buffy would have told me if—” She broke off, remembering little things she’d seen that had made no sense at the time but did now, looking back. Biting her lip, Dawn risked a glance over at him. “I still don’t understand why you left.”

“Promised your sister I’d never hurt her, didn’t I?” Spike said softly. “An’ then I did. The rest of it’s between us, but…” He ran a hand over his face. “Never meant to hurt you, Dawn.”

The anger still burned, but it was a dying fire. “Well, you did. Congratulations, Spike. You left and didn’t even say goodbye.”

“There wasn’t time.” There hadn’t been opportunity either. It wasn’t likely that Buffy was going to let him see Dawn after what he’d nearly done. “Wish there had been.”

Dawn sighed. “So who’s the guy?”

“Friend of mine,” Spike replied. “We met up in New York.”

“Is that where you went?”

“For a while. Been all over at this point.”

“How long are you staying?”

“I don’t know.” Spike had always been straight with the girl, and he didn’t see a reason to start lying to her now. “Tara said the Hellmouth needs me, an’ that you’re havin’ some trouble.”

“I’m not having trouble,” Dawn snapped. “Tara should mind her own business.”

Spike shrugged. “Right then. Look, you need someone to talk to—”

“If I did, it wouldn’t be you,” Dawn shot back. She turned abruptly to go back inside. “You left, Spike. We’re not friends, we’re not family. You have no right to me or my life. In fact, you can just go to hell for all I care.”

Spike listened to the slamming of the door behind him, unmoving. Hurt. He’d forgotten how much rejection had hurt, he’d managed to do without it for so long. The door opened and closed behind him, and Tim passed him a pack of cigarettes. “Dawn said she wasn’t hungry and left.”

“I see.” Spike took a long drag off his smoke and glanced over at the young man who was doing the same. “Thought you were supposed to give those up.”

“I changed my mind.” Tim shrugged. “I like smoking too much.”

Since Spike felt the same way, there really wasn’t an argument he could make. “Let Tara know I’ve gone hunting?”

“Can I go with you?”

“I don’t think—”

“If you wait till after dinner, I could go too.”

Spike sighed. “The Hellmouth isn’t like New York, lad.”

“So what?” Tim gave him a cheeky grin. “I’ll be with you, won’t I?”

“I can’t always protect you,” Spike replied, and his tone was sharper than he’d intended.

Tim’s face lost its humor, and his green-gold eyes darkened slightly. “Spike, whatever she said to you, it doesn’t matter. Not really. You did the best you could.”

“It wasn’t the best for her.”

“Sometimes our best isn’t good enough, but it’s all we have,” Tim replied.

Spike let out an unnecessary breath in a humorless chuckle. “You’re twistin’ my own words.”

“They’re good ones.” Tim touched his arm hesitantly. “Let me come with you.”

Spike closed his eyes, dropping his head, then taking one last drag off the cigarette. “Fine. Let’s get you fed, then I want to go hunting.”

~~~~~

It was late before Spike got back to Tara’s house. He and Tim had gone through a few cemeteries before he’d sent the boy back. Tim had gone without comment, perhaps realizing that Spike needed some time to himself. Not to mention a spot of violence where he was alone.

He passed Buffy’s grave on the way back to Tara’s, somehow knowing that it had been his goal all along. “Hey, pet,” he murmured, touching the stone. “Tryin’ to keep Sunnyhell demon-free for you. Doubt it’s going to happen, since if a Slayer can’t do it, ‘m not sure why a souled vampire would even be tryin’.”

Spike sighed. “Talked to your sis today. Think she hates me for leavin’ like I did. Can’t blame her really. It hurts when somebody breaks their promise. I just hope she can forgive me after a while.”

He straightened, started to move away. “Glinda says she needs help, but Dawn says otherwise. I’ll stay around and see to her, Slayer. I can promise you that. Maybe this time I’ll be able to keep that promise.”

Spike headed back to Tara’s slowly, hands shoved in pockets and shoulders slumped. He was tired unto death, not for the first time. Even releasing his hurt and anger onto the flesh of demonkind was not enough these days.

All he could do was remember that someone needed him.

~~~~~

Tara had been six when her father had brought his belt down on bare skin for her remarks about the cloud that surrounded their neighbor, Mr. Orson. It was to teach her not to slander, but the young Tara had been very certain that it was merely a statement of fact. Mr. Orson had a black cloud surrounding him that made Tara very nervous in his company.

The fact that Mr. Orson had beaten his wife to death no more than a week later was never mentioned. Tara learned not to talk about the things she saw that weren’t there for other people. Not until she had met Willow had there been another who so shared her vision of the world.

It turned out that Willow hadn’t understood, however. She had been into power and control. Tara had learned the hard way from a very early age that most things were often unpredictable and chaotic. That the people you were supposed to be able to love and trust the most were those who were most dangerous.

She’d believed Willow was different; that had hurt the worst.

So it was that Tara didn’t trust the obvious anymore. She didn’t trust that someone was going to be good to her just because they loved her. And she didn’t believe that someone was evil just because they were supposed to be.

Tara had seen Spike’s aura before he left Sunnydale, and then again when he returned. Other than the addition of the soul, not much had changed. It was oddly comforting. For that reason alone, Tara would have trusted him enough to let him in her house.

Besides, she knew what had gone on before he left Sunnydale, knew the truth of his relationship with Buffy. Tara felt for both of them, caught in a situation that seemed to be spiraling out of their control.

Now, with Dawn slowly destroying herself, Tara had hoped that Spike might be the one to pull her out of it. It seemed a futile hope.

She wrapped her hands around the hot mug of tea and listened as the front door slowly creaked open. Spike came through to the kitchen just as she’d hoped he would. “How did it go tonight?”

“You shouldn’t leave your door open.”

Tara smiled. “I have wards up. Those who mean me harm wouldn’t see the house anyway.”

“Neat trick.”

“I’ve been practicing.” She waited a beat. “Would you like some tea?”

Spike regarded her silently for a moment. “Please. That would be nice.”

She rose to pour him a mug, handing it over to him silently. They both sat down at the table, sipping slowly. “I’m sorry for how things went with Dawn tonight.”

Spike shrugged. “’s alright. Wasn’t your fault, pet.”

“Maybe not, but I know how close you two were that summer.” Tara sighed. “I thought it would go better, honestly. She’s just so desperate for something right now, and I thought she might latch onto you.”

Spike stared down into his tea as though it were a scrying pool that held all the answers. “What kind of trouble is she in?”

“Boys, drinking, that sort of thing.” Tara laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “The same sorts of things I was into after my mother died. Anything to feel for a while. You forget that there might be something worth living for sometimes.”

“Sometimes you do,” Spike agreed quietly. “Not sure what I can do for her, Glinda, not if she won’t talk to me.”

Tara shrugged. “Maybe if you’re just around, Spike. That could help. And I can get you a key so I don’t have to leave my door unlocked for you.”

“Tim an’ I will find our own place,” he said quickly. “Do appreciate you lettin’ us stay here, though. It’s—nice.”

“Spike—” Tara stopped, suddenly unsure of what to say exactly. He was so wounded. So was Tim. The two of them together activated her maternal nature until the desire to nurture was a sharp need. It was rather obvious that they could use a mother; it was equally obvious that Spike, at least, didn’t want one.

Things had changed so much in the last few months. Anya had long left for greener pastures, leaving Tara to run the Magic Box, an equal partner with Giles. Buffy, of course, was gone, never to return. Willow had used the Slayer’s death as a convenient excuse to get away from Sunnydale and the increasing awkwardness between her and Tara. All that had left Xander an embittered man, hardly good company.

Spike was a connection to the old days, when the Scoobies had been a united group. When Tara had felt a part of something, part of a family, before things had gone sour. And his eyes were an open wound.

Tara had never been able to ignore a wounded creature, not even when her father punished her for bringing critters home.

It seemed that she hadn’t changed all that much herself.

“Don’t worry about us, ducks,” Spike said. “We’ve been alright on our own for a while.”

Tara mustered up a smile. “There’s an apartment complex not too far from here. I’ve heard they have pretty good rates.”

“We’ll check there first then.” Suddenly Spike’s eyes went shy, and Tara got a glimpse of a man she’d never seen before. “Would be nice to stay close,” he admitted. “Know Tim could use the attention. He’s a good kid, but—”

Tara nodded. Tim’s eyes were as wounded as Spike’s, and that was saying something. “I’ll look after him.”

Spike smiled. “Good. I can use all the help I can get.”

A thought struck her, and Tara asked, “So where are you going to be working?”

The vampire just looked mysterious. “You don’t want to know.”


	5. Chapter 5

**“If logic tells you that life is a meaningless accident, don’t give up on life. Give up on logic.” ~Shira Milgrom, New York Rabbi**

The first floor apartment was not only a good size, with two bedrooms and a sliding glass door for easy dog-walking opportunities, but also very cheap. Tim was never precisely sure how Spike always managed the best deals on real estate, but he did. This time the boy suspected it had something to do with a very careful stakeout over two nights, waiting for the apartment manager to get attacked by a vampire.

Of course, how Spike knew the woman would get attacked by a vampire was another story, and not something Tim cared to examine too closely.

Being rescued by two stalwart champions for the innocent definitely predisposed her towards giving them an incredible discount on the rent. Spike’s offer to ensure that there wouldn’t be any more vamps hanging around the place clinched the deal. And the place was dog-friendly, which was all Tim really cared about.

Furniture, of course, would have to be scrounged, as usual.

“What are you guys going to do for furniture?” Tara asked, sounding concerned. She’d come over to take a look at the place and was a little concerned at how bare it was.

Spike shrugged. “We’ve got sleepin’ bags for right now. Tomorrow we’ll have to start lookin’ for stuff. You’d be amazed at what people put out on the curb all the time.”

Tara frowned, not really liking the idea of the two of them making do with so little. Not that they were going to listen to her. “I’ll see what I can dig up,” she promised.

Spike and Tim exchanged glances, both amused at her mothering. “We’ve got stuff in the trunk,” Tim assured her. “You know, cooking utensils and things like that.”

It was better than nothing, and Tara just had to be satisfied with that. “You’re both still welcome at my place at any time,” she said. “I mean it.”

Spike smiled, recognizing the order to show up on occasion for what it was. He appreciated the thought—appreciated being welcome in another’s home. He had yet to see Dawn again. The young woman obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Spike had decided to let things ride, wait it out. He remembered too well what had happened the last time he’d tried to force things.

“I’ll start getting the stuff from the car,” Tim offered, whistling at Luz as he headed out the door. The dog was at his heels in a flash, grinning at the opportunity to go out.

Tara glanced over at Spike. “You guys should come over for dinner tonight.”

“Glinda—”

“Just the two of you,” Tara said. “I did invite Dawn, but she declined. Apparently there’s a party to go to at the Bronze.”

A flash of wistfulness passed over Spike’s face, and then was gone. “Well, ‘m glad somebody’s having a good time,” he said lightly. An evening with Tara suddenly seemed like a good idea. He’d found he enjoyed the witch’s company. More than that, it felt good to be with another adult, someone else who understood the necessary burdens looking after another person entailed. “You want to come to Tara’s tonight, lad?”

Tim, who had just walked through the door with a box in his arms, shrugged. “I thought I’d go out tonight. Met a guy in the shop the other day who said there was going to be a pretty cool band playing.”

Spike nodded. “Good. You ought to get out, meet some people your own age instead of hangin’ around with old people like us.”

“You’re old,” Tim agreed. “Tara isn’t. Should be cool. I’ve got to start asking around about good artists in the area.”

Spike didn’t even bother replying to that comment. It wasn’t that he didn’t like tattoos exactly. It had a lot more to do with the fact that Angel had one, and Spike as a general rule thought anything his grandsire did was stupid. Including getting a tattoo.

If you had to live with one for an eternity, permanence took on a whole new meaning.

“Be careful,” was all Spike said, but Tim rolled his eyes in response. Not that he minded Spike caring whether or not he made it home in one piece, but it seemed like the thing to do.

“Yes, Dad,” he replied mockingly. “Would you mind watching Luz tonight?”

Spike gave him a disgruntled look and then sighed. “Take a stake with you,” he said. “And no, I don’t mind watchin’ the dog.” Luz came over to sit by him, nudging his hand with her nose until he finally started scratching behind her ears. “Like she needs watchin’.”

“She doesn’t like being alone,” Tim defended. He hesitated. “You don’t mind me going out tonight, do you?”

“No,” Spike replied softly. “Have a good time. Just—”

“Be careful,” Tim finished for him with a smile. He often wondered what it would have been like to grow up with Spike. Not that it was even possible, since Spike was ageless, but still. To have grown up with someone who not only told him to be careful when he went out but also offered to rip the throats out of anyone who hurt him.

Well, Tim thought it might have been kind of nice.

“I won’t be real late,” he promised. “Got work tomorrow after all,” Tim added, giving Tara a grin and heading back out the door for another load.

“Cheeky bugger,” Spike muttered, shaking his head.

“And that’s why you love him,” Tara commented with a smile.

Spike’s face was dead-pan, although his eyes held a spark of good humor. “Never said anythin’ about love.”

~~~~~

Tim showed his fake ID to the bartender, gratified when the man handed him a bottle without question. Even though he’d just turned 20, Tim knew he could easily pass for a few years older. Taking a couple swallows, he looked around the small club with interest. The Bronze wasn’t nearly as lame as he’d feared. Ryan, the kid from the shop, hadn’t shown up yet, but the band was pretty decent, as promised.

He took another sip of his beer, savoring it, since he didn’t plan on having more than one. First rule of being in a new place was to keep your wits. Tim avoided any kind of loss of control unless he had someone else to watch his back. And then only when it was someone he trusted.

There wasn’t any place to sit, so he found a wall and did his impression of a wallflower. Not that he minded. Tim had long ago learned the art of being alone, although it was usually out of self-defense, rather than preference.

He stood there for a while, watching the people, sipping his beer, listening to the music. At one point, the crowds parted, and he could see Dawn dancing with a bunch of people. She had two guys on either side of her, and Tim wrinkled his nose in disgust. Not that he minded seeing a little skin on a girl, but he knew trouble when he saw it. That he knew her to be a major league bitch didn’t help any.

Seeing her dimmed his enjoyment, and Tim pushed away from the wall, planning on pitching his empty bottle and heading back to the apartment.

“Hey, those are some cool tats.” The girl who had spoken was short and slightly overweight. She had several piercings and visible tattoos herself, but more importantly wore a friendly smile. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“First time,” he replied. “Just got into town a few days ago. I’m Tim.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, Ryan was talking about you. He’d said he met you at the Magic Box and that you might show. I’m Meredith.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tim replied with an easy grin. “This is a pretty nice place.”

“It’s okay,” Meredith replied dismissively. “It’s safer than the Fishbowl, which is the only reason we come here. That, and they have good bands sometimes. Come on over and sit with us. We’re just hanging out until we go back over to Ryan’s tonight.”

Tim willingly followed her, casting a last glance over at Dawn. This time, their eyes met, and it was Tim who looked away first, not wanting more contact with her than absolutely necessary.

~~~~~

Spike sighed, finding himself relaxing in Tara’s presence. She always seemed to carry an aura of peacefulness with her that affected all around. “Thanks for havin’ me over tonight, Glinda.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Tara replied warmly. “It’s nice to have a friend in town again.”

The vampire frowned. “Harris…”

“Isn’t my friend,” Tara said, sounding regretful. “I don’t think he’s ever quite forgiven me for breaking things off with Willow. If I hadn’t, she would have stayed in town.” She patted Luz without thinking, the dog having laid her head across the witch’s knee. Luz sighed in happiness, her eyes half-closed.

Spike lifted an eyebrow. “Just like Buffy wouldn’t have died if I’d stayed.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Tara replied sternly. Her eyes went far away. “I don’t think anyone or anything could have saved her, Spike. It was just—her time.”

Taking a long draught of the wine Tara had broken out, Spike looked over at her. “You never did explain what happened.”

“No,” Tara agreed. They had talked around it several times, and she’d given him the bare bones story—that Buffy had been killed by a vampire. That it wasn’t until her body had been discovered by an early morning jogger that anyone had known anything at all. That Dawn had been the one to identify the body.

There wasn’t much more to the story than that, actually. Buffy’s first two deaths had been more spectacular than her third. Even though she had been the best to ever live, she was still vulnerable to the fate that awaited every Slayer.

With Buffy gone, the Council could not risk the world being without a Slayer for as long as it took Faith to gain her freedom. The dark-haired woman had been killed in a prison riot. Slayers were vulnerable to knives in the back as well.

“There isn’t much more to explain,” Tara said regretfully. “I think that’s what made it worse for the others, that it was a single vampire rather than some apocalyptic battle.”

Spike sighed. “Every Slayer has a death wish,” he murmured. “Told Buffy that once. Maybe if I’d stayed…”

“She wouldn’t have wanted to die?” Tara inquired. “Spike, while no one else would admit this, Buffy was tired. She did get better after you left. I think Willow going crazy snapped her out of her funk. But that didn’t change the fact that she’d seen heaven, and she always wanted to go back.”

“Did she ever talk about me?”

“Sometimes,” Tara replied quietly, glad to be able to give him this small comfort. “When it was just the two of us. I know she wondered how you were, where you were. I know she regretted what happened between the two of you.”

Spike nodded. “She would. It got bad.”

“I think she cared for you, as much as she was able.”

“I know,” Spike said softly. “When she broke it off with me, I knew she cared enough to do that much at least. She called me William, an’ she said she was sorry. I think that made it hurt worse, knowin’ that she felt somethin’ at least.”

Tara understood that too well. Understood the pain of hoping for repair in a relationship that was already broken, never to be fixed. “How did you meet Tim?” she asked. “And I want details this time, Spike.”

He chuckled, knowing the change in subject for what it was. Unfortunately, the new topic wasn’t much more cheerful. “Was on my way out of the country,” he explained. “An’ I needed to kill some time…”

_Spike had desired to get out of Sunnydale first and foremost, and had headed east on the bike until it broke down. Ditching the motorcycle in favor of the railroad, Spike started haunting the railyards. It was still possible to ride a train all the way to the East coast._

Not that he didn’t have a definite goal in mind. Clem had told him about the demon in Africa who granted wishes for a price. Well, Spike had a wish or two to make, and he was happy to pay the toll. The worst that could happen was that he’d die in the attempt, and that didn’t seem like such a bad alternative at this point.

It had been a pleasant change to travel. After the last few years in Sunnydale, Spike had almost forgotten that there was a wider world beyond Buffy and the Hellmouth. Used to be that he enjoyed time spent on the road, liked seeing new places and things and people—or demons. Now he just had to wait on a ship leaving good old NYC for Europe or Africa. As long as it got him across the ocean, that was all that mattered.

The longer he was on the road, the more Spike realized he wasn’t in a hurry to complete his errand. He’d have his soul back and the chip out soon enough, and then he’d have to face the Slayer again, not something he was particularly looking forward to.

Life on his own was decidedly pleasant in comparison to what he had just come from. He’d even managed to not think about Buffy for whole hours at a time.

The diner was just a way to pass the time, an opportunity to people-watch, pretend that he was hunting again.

The near-by table full of young teens brought Dawn reluctantly to his mind. He’d thought of writing or calling at least a half-dozen times since he’d left Sunnyhell, but every time he stopped just before completing the call or sending the letter. Spike just didn’t have a clue as to what he was supposed to say, how he was supposed to explain his leaving, or what had happened before he left. He wondered if Buffy had told her sister about what had passed between them, knowing that if she had, Dawn would hate him forever, as she should.

With a quiet groan, Spike pushed the thoughts away, concentrating on the interchange between the children. They all looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, out for an evening. There was one boy who appeared not to belong. He was the awkward one, the one who was the butt of every joke.

Spike watched as the boy flushed when one of the others made a joke at his expense. There were a couple of girls and four boys. One of the girls wasn’t laughing at the jokes, but she wasn’t defending him either.

The comparison reluctantly came to mind, and he remembered another party long ago where he was the one struggling not to show his discomfort as the others made fun at his expense. Spike watched the boy get up from the table, muttering something about coming back.

As he passed his table, Spike could see the kid struggling to control his emotions. It was obvious that he was heading to the bathroom in order to get ahold of himself. So lost in his memories was he that Spike didn’t notice anything until he heard the waitress in charge of his own table raise her voice.

“Somebody has to pay!” she said. “I’m not letting another bunch of punks do a dine and dash, and end up losing a chunk of my paycheck. I’ve got a sick kid at home!”

The boy was standing there, his face twisting in discomfort, near tears once again. “Honest, I didn’t know they were leaving. I can pay for my food, but I don’t have that kind of cash on me.”

Most kids wouldn’t, Spike thought, thinking about it. Six kids, all of whom had full meals. Most of them probably only with the money to pay for a burger and a movie in their pockets. He realized that the other kids had gotten up and left while the boy was in the bathroom, leaving him to take care of the tab. Cruel, indeed.

“I’m calling the cops,” the waitress declared. “If you give me their names, I’ll let it go.”

Spike watched the boy’s eyes go wide in alarm. It was an impossible situation, especially for a teenager. If he snitched on the others, he wouldn’t get into trouble when he’d done nothing wrong anyway. But his social life would be over, with whatever hope for acceptance he had gone.

It wasn’t just his memories of a party long ago that made him sympathetic to the boy’s plight. He’d been the outsider just recently as well.

Before he could think about it too much, Spike stood, reaching into his wallet for the necessary cash. “I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly.

The kid turned startled eyes to him, and the waitress regarded him suspiciously. “This isn’t any of your business, sir. Those kids have to learn a lesson.”

“Maybe so, but their friend isn’t the one to teach it,” Spike replied. “Why don’t you let me pick up the tab?” he asked persuasively. “Just take care of it.”

Apparently the charm still worked on some women, because she relaxed under his gaze. “If you can take care of it,” she said, a trace of doubt in her voice. Spike knew he didn’t look like he had a wallet full of cash, but he had enough for this at least. Pulling a couple bills out of his wallet, he handed them over, saying, “Keep the change.”

It was a good enough tip that she walked away smiling. The boy stared at him, obviously overwhelmed at the gesture. “I—I can’t—”

“Forget it,” Spike ordered. “You might want to find yourself some new friends, though.”

“They aren’t my friends,” he replied hotly. “It’s—Sira, I mean—”

“It’s always a girl,” Spike murmured. He sighed. “I’ll give you a piece of advice, lad. Stay away from the girls. They’re always trouble.”

The kid shrugged. “Yeah, but Sira’s cool.”

Spike wanted to tell him that no girl who’d let her friends walk out, sticking him with the bill, was cool, but he wasn’t ready to listen. “You walkin’ home by yourself?”

“I take the subway,” the kid replied.

“I’ll see you home,” Spike said. He had no clue why it mattered that this boy get home safely, but it did. Maybe it was just that he missed looking after the Slayer and her sister—or at least trying to look after them.

The kid looked at him warily. “Okay. I’m Tim.”

“Spike.”

Tim looked at him askance. “Spike? Really?”

“For a long time now, lad,” Spike replied. “Let’s blow this joint.”

“So you walked him home,” Tara said.

“Yeah, saw him home, an’ then headed out on a freighter a couple days later,” Spike replied. “Didn’t run into each other again till about a month after I got back from Africa.”

Tara was looking at him as though she’d never seen him before. Spike soon grew uncomfortable under her gaze. “What?”

“That was before you got a soul.”

“So?” Spike snapped. “Bloody hell! The whole lot of you thought I—I was tryin’ to change! I just wanted—”

“You changed, and no one noticed,” Tara said softly. “I’m sorry, Spike.”

Spike shrugged and sank back down on the couch. “Not your fault.” He gave her a wry smile. “You’ve done some changin’ yourself, pet.”

“And no one noticed,” Tara replied. “At least, not until they had to. It’s obvious that Tim thinks the sun rises and sets on you, Spike. He doesn’t believe you think all that much of him, though.”

Spike shook his head. “Tim—Tim’s been through a lot,” he said quietly, not wanting to reveal too much. They weren’t his secrets to tell. “He was in a bad way when I found him after I got back, Glinda. Didn’t think he was gonna pull through for a while. Took me weeks…” He sighed. “Lad doesn’t believe anybody wants him, an’ he doesn’t believe he’s gonna make it past 25.”

Those words told Tara as much as she needed to know. She had seen the marks of it, on his skin, in his eyes. How could she not when the scars on her own soul were obvious to anyone who knew what to look for?

She’d done her own research, after leaving home, getting far enough away to realize that her family wasn’t normal. Some might say that no family was normal, but Tara knew better. She knew that normalcy in a family was defined by love, and hers had not been so. Perhaps her mother had loved her, but not enough. Not enough to protect her daughter against the demons that lived inside their home.

It wasn’t the women in her family that were monsters.

So, once she’d managed to put a little time and distance between her and those who had betrayed her the worst, Tara had begun reading. She read up on how to heal, how to make sense of what had happened to her.

Only in the last year or two had she actually begun to fully come to terms with it, because first of all you had to acknowledge that it was there.

And Tara knew that children who had experienced violence often had no hope for the future. Instead of feeling invulnerable and invincible, as did most boys his age, Tim was all-too-aware of his own mortality.

As for the self-esteem issue, Tara was well acquainted with feeling worthless. She’d had to fight that battle too, especially after she’d left Willow for good.

“Tim will heal in time, Spike.”

“Will he?” Spike shook his head. “Some wounds go too deep to ever be healed, Glinda.

And Tara knew he wasn’t just talking about Tim.


	6. Chapter 6

**“Hope is a waking dream.” ~Aristotle**

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Ryan asked. “I gotta take Meredith home too.”

Tim shook his had. “No, I’m good. I don’t live that far away.”

Ryan shrugged. “Up to you. So you gonna show Friday night? It should be fun.”

He hesitated. Ryan and the others seemed like a good bunch of people, but Tim was always a little wary in a new town. “Yeah, sure. For a while anyway. You mind if my roommate comes with if he wants?”

“The more the merrier,” Ryan replied, waving a goodbye, as did Meredith. While Tim was never too sure what to do with members of the opposite sex, he really liked her. Of course, it only made sense that she was dating someone else—one of the guys in the band that had been playing.

Tim sighed, trudging down the street. This was always the worst part of picking up and moving. He liked seeing new places, but meeting new people was hard, and so often he’d only just started to feel as though he belonged when they would set out on the road again. It had been that way in New Orleans.

Staying with Spike was worth it, however.

Tim heard a voice behind him, calling out his name. He started reaching for his stake without thinking, then stopped as he recognized Dawn. “Tim.”

“Hey.” He knew he wasn’t being very welcoming, but he didn’t care. Tim was normally a very polite young man, appearances notwithstanding, but he really didn’t like this girl. “What do you want?”

Dawn paused, suddenly unsure of herself. She’d been thinking the last few days, and had realized that maybe she was being stupid where Spike was concerned. Not that she thought she needed his help, but she still remembered how close they had been the summer Buffy was gone.

No matter what she might say, Dawn missed having a family.

“I—this isn’t a very safe part of town to be walking by yourself,” she replied.

Tim lifted an eyebrow and then turned away to continue walking. “Look who’s talking.”

Dawn scowled, not liking the reminder that both boys she’d had on the line had left, tired of being jerked around. “I know how to take care of myself,” she shot back.

“So do I,” Tim replied, his tone mocking. “Look, Dawn, I know you and Spike go way back, but you’re a bitch. So why don’t you go find someone else to annoy?”

Dawn stopped stock-still. She couldn’t believe this—punk. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that? She hurried to catch up with him. “I am not a bitch!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Right. You keep telling yourself that.”

“You don’t even know me!” she protested.

“And you don’t know Spike anymore,” Tim said. “So why are you being so cruel?”

“He left!” Dawn replied. “You weren’t here. You don’t know.”

Tim kept walking, speeding up his steps a little more. “So what?” he shot back. “Shit, Dawn, everybody leaves. People don’t stay the same, and they don’t stay in one place. You just have to deal with it.”

“Spike wasn’t supposed to go!” she protested. “He promised!”

Tim stopped, head down, not knowing why he was even bothering to listen. “Then maybe you should give him another chance,” he said quietly. “Because he came back.” He didn’t care about her, but Tim knew that Spike would appreciate some consideration from her, would love it if she gave him a second chance at things.

There was a part of him that was afraid that if she did, if Spike got Dawn back the vampire wouldn’t need him anymore. Whatever indefinable role Tim played in his life would be over, taken up by this girl that Spike had loved for such a long time.

Dawn, for her part, envied this boy who’d had Spike for the last five years—the vampire who was supposed to belong to the Slayer and to her. She envied their closeness and their obvious bond. She coveted it, and at the same time fought against renewing any old attachments.

Because everyone died—everyone left.

They stood—separated by inches and by a space that went on forever. Both had been hurt in ways no one should have to endure; neither was willing to see the other’s pain, or to try and understand it. What Dawn wanted she could not have said, but she was suddenly tired of looking. “Will you tell him to come by some time?” she asked. “Tara can give him directions.”

Tim glared at her suspiciously. “Why don’t you come by?” he challenged. “We have our own place now.”

“Just tell him,” Dawn ordered. As he started to walk away, she called after him, “And I’m not a bitch!”

Without turning around, Tim replied, “I’ll believe that when you stop acting like one.”

~~~~~

“Tim? Did you stock the eye of newt already?” Tara called. She looked around. The shop was looking better than it had in weeks. Everything was in its place, and neatly lettered signs were up announcing sales and specials. Tim had a knack with art that left Tara pleased.

He looked up from his book. “Yeah, everything’s done.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks. This place really does require two people to run it, but I haven’t had help for a while now.”

Tim hesitated, wondering if he should even ask the question, deciding that Tara wouldn’t be offended even if he crossed the line. “How come you didn’t ask Dawn to help?”

“I did,” Tara replied. “She said she didn’t have time for a job right now.”

Tim was quiet for a moment, thinking about his encounter with the girl the night before. He’d passed the message along to Spike, as he’d been asked. “Has Spike changed all that much?”

“No,” Tara said, not really even thinking about it. “Not that much. I suppose he’s a little more subdued than he used to be.”

Tim frowned. “He’s different here, you know. Not a ton, but I can tell.”

“There’s a lot of history here,” Tara replied. “For all of us. You kind of had to be there.” Tara could immediately tell that it wasn’t the right thing to say. “Oh, Tim, I didn’t mean to say that you can’t know, it’s just—”

“Forget it,” Tim said hoarsely. “You mind if I take a smoke break?”

Tara sighed helplessly. “No, go ahead. When you get back I’ll go get lunch for both of us.”

“You don’t have to do that, Tara,” he protested. “Really, I’m fine.”

“I want to,” she said firmly. “I promised Spike I’d look after you, didn’t I?”

Tim nodded shortly, knowing he was probably being rude and unable to help himself. Leaning against the wall in the alley behind the shop, Luz by his side, Tim had time to think. He still remembered the first time he’d seen Spike in the diner in New York. He’d fancied himself in love with Yasira Rodriguez at the time, and had hung around her and her friends, waiting for her to reciprocate his feelings. She never had.

It could have been one of the most humiliating moments of his life. Tim hated to think what it might have been like to walk into school the next day if he’d been forced to snitch them all out. Spike had rescued him from that embarrassment, which looking back now seemed minor. Instead of being ashamed, Tim had walked into school with his head high, and his lips sealed.

Even then there had been a greater shame that no one had known. One that Spike could not save him from.

Almost a year later, he had seen Spike again for the second time in a dirty alley. The vampire had saved him from dying, but there were worse things than death.

They had never really talked about what had happened, what Spike had seen, what he knew about Tim’s activities. The young man suspected that Spike knew everything, if only by virtue of his long experience. He supposed it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what a street kid had to do to survive.

Tim had seen it first hand. You might swear you were never going to turn tricks, but that only lasted as long as an empty belly, and then you had to find a way to fill it. And panhandling was never a sure thing.

By the time Spike swooped to his rescue for the second time, Tim had done a number of things to survive, and he’d learned to dull the pain with a lot of cheap pharmaceuticals. It was luck alone that he hadn’t started shooting up yet.

It was luck alone that he’d survived for that long.

Tim remembered the days that Spike had spent with him. Long days of waiting for the shakes and the vomiting to end. Long nights of nightmares and sweats and riveting pain. And always there had been cool, gentle hands and a smoke-filled voice that murmured promises and threats. Promises to stay, threats of what he would do should Tim give up.

There were bonds that went deeper than blood. Spike had told him enough about the Sire-Childe bond for Tim to know that what he felt was similar. His was a loyalty that bound him to Spike as surely as Luz was bound to him.

And Tim did not mind belonging to someone. He just hoped that that someone didn’t abandon him.

~~~~~

Why Spike found himself following the tunnels to the Magic Box in the middle of the afternoon was beyond him, but he was. Maybe it was because he was bored. His chosen profession—information broker, card sharp, and all-round-ne’er-do-well—could be quite profitable if you knew how to go about it. Knowing what information to broker, which poker games to play, and what prize fights to participate in could reduce the work load to several nights a month, leaving plenty of time for free-lance demon hunting.

He hadn’t been lying when he told Tara she didn’t want to know how he made his money. He was a snitch, a thief, and a gambler. His mother would have been appalled.

Someone had to make sure there was plenty of blood and food and smokes, however, and Spike really didn’t mind. It kept him from getting too bored most days. Key word: most.

Today wasn’t one of those days, however, and Spike found himself hungry for company. He entered the Magic Box through his old method and caused Tara to nearly jump out of her skin. “Sorry, Glinda.”

Tara stared at him, eyes wide, hand to her heart. “It’s fine, Spike,” she said, once she’d caught her breath. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Did you come in through the storage room?”

“Yeah, the entrance is still open.” Spike looked around the shop expectantly. “Tim here?”

“He’s out back smoking,” she replied, and the vampire caught the hesitation in her manner.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Tara thought better of her quick denial and rephrased. “I don’t think so, but—”

Spike’s eyes darkened. “He hasn’t been himself since the other night. I’ll go talk to him if you don’t mind.”

“Take your time,” she replied softly, touching him lightly on the arm. The gesture stunned him, left him gratified and wanting more. The luxury of touch was so small a thing, and yet priceless beyond measure. For all the coupling that he and Buffy had done, there had been so little of that between them—so little tenderness.

Tara was all softness and steel, an intriguing combination.

Tim was out in the alley, smoking, in an unknowing parody of the Slayer’s position that day she’d revealed where she’d been, where she’d come from. Spike had the added benefit of a soul this time, plus knowing that Tim’s feelings were rather more in his favor. Spike was no longer the supplicant.

“I was just about to come in,” the boy said, standing, watching as Luz trotted over to lick Spike’s hand in greeting.

Spike shrugged. “We’ve got a bit of time. Tara didn’t seem to mind if you took a bit longer break. Did somethin’ happen?”

“No,” Tim said, ready to head back in. He wanted to avoid this conversation, feeling that he already knew the outcome. “I’m fine.”

“Sit down, lad,” Spike said, in the tone he hardly ever used with Tim. It was the tone he might have used with a wayward fledge, but there was a kindness behind it. “I think we need to clear some things up.”

Tim sat, and Luz whined, looking from one man to the other anxiously. Spike chuckled. He could swear the dog thought she was a person. “It’s not a scoldin’, Luz,” he reassured her, and Tim. “Just a bit of clarification.”

Spike hugged the wall and the shade as he came over to sit next to Tim. In an hour or so the entire alley would be shaded and safe, but for now he had to be careful. He supposed it had been a shock to the lad to learn his protector was a vampire, but Tim’s eyes had been old even then, and their bond had already been tightly sealed.

Tim had really taken in the information with remarkable aplomb.

They sat in silence for a bit until Tim asked, “So have you talked with Dawn yet?”

The question was enough to let Spike know what was going on in Tim’s head. “No, an’ I’m not goin’ to until she comes ‘round. Girl told me to go to hell.” When he saw the start of a smile on the boy’s face, he said quietly, “I think I need to clarify some things for you.”

“It’s okay, Spike, really,” Tim said quietly, anxious fingers rubbing the tattoo of the star on the underside of his forearm—a sure sign he was getting panicky. “I mean, I know you care about her.”

“I do,” he agreed. “’s not that, though.” Spike sighed. “You weren’t around for me bein’ the Big Bad, lad. We didn’t meet till I was mostly tamed, but my first tour through Sunnydale was spent mostly tryin’ to kill the Slayer.”

Tim was silent, listening intently. He’d never gotten this much information out of Spike before, and he had thirsted for it. “So that’s what Buffy knew, yeah? Knew the evil son of a bitch that tried to kill her half a dozen times. Then I got that blasted chip in my head, an’ I was toothless. Couldn’t even growl at a human without getting a soddin’ headache.”

“But you got the chip out, right?” Tim interrupted, thinking of the second night he’d met Spike.

Spike smiled, but there was no humor in the expression. “Same time I got the soul.” He looked over at Tim. “What you have to understand is that after I fell in love with her—the Slayer—I promised I’d take care of Dawn till the end of the world. And I failed. Dawn got hurt, an’ as a result the Slayer died. Her friends pulled her out of heaven, and then we shagged and we fought and I very nearly did the one thing I swore I’d never do.”

Tim was quiet. He didn’t bother asking what that one thing was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “So you left.”

“I left,” Spike agreed. “I broke my promise, Tim. I failed, an’ I cost a girl her life. An’ then I made it worse. That’s why it’s so important to me to keep my promises now.”

“But you promised her first!” Tim protested. “You didn’t even know me then.”

“I know you now.” Spike’s blue eyes met Tim’s yellow-green. “I failed Buffy,” he admitted hoarsely. “Wasn’t man enough for her. An’ I failed Dawn too. I won’t do it again.”

Tim understood then. Understood that Spike knew the past was irreparable, that he wouldn’t risk the present or the future on something that had been and gone. “Spike—”

“You’re mine, Tim.”

They were the same words Spike had spoken the day that Tim had nearly died, and the young man felt the same wild rush of relief that he had that first time. He rested his head on Spike’s shoulder in a gesture younger than his years. “I know.”

~~~~~

Xander entered the shop, the sense of duty lying heavily on his shoulders. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Tara, because he did. She was a perfectly nice woman. More than nice, even. The problem was that he felt if given the choice between Willow and Tara, he would have taken Willow in a minute, but the choice had never been offered. It had, in fact, been taken out of his hands.

He felt as though he’d lost both his best friends in the past few months. Loneliness had never been a comfortable state for the Xand-man.

In some strange way he supposed he blamed Tara for Willow’s leaving, and not just because she was the one who stayed. Tara had been the one to break things off with the red-headed witch, and Xander thought that maybe if she’d just stuck things out, Willow would have remained in Sunnydale instead of flying off to greener pastures in England.

If Xander was going to be honest with himself—not something he liked to make a regular practice of—he had to wonder why he had remained in Sunnydale. Other than Dawn, there was really no one here for him now, and he could work construction anywhere—could probably make a better living at it too.

In his heart of hearts, Xander knew that what kept him in Sunnydale was fear, pure and simple. He’d never lived anywhere else, had never even really been anywhere else. His attempt to tour the 50 states had blown up in his face after his high school graduation when the engine fell out of his car. Xander Harris was, in the end, terribly unsure about his ability to make it in the larger world.

So he stayed in Sunnydale, and his bitterness deepened.

Xander would come to the shop every so often to make sure that Tara was okay, but it hurt to even walk through the doors. Hurt not to see Willow or Buffy or Giles. He felt like a ghost in his own life now.

Tara was behind the counter when he entered the shop. “Hi, Xander.”

“Hey, Tara.” Xander shifted from foot to foot. His main reason for coming today was to check and see if what Dawn had said was true—that the boy who had been with Spike was working in the shop with her. “Are you by yourself?”

“Not really,” Tara replied. “Tim and Spike are out back.” For her part, Tara felt no need to hide her relationship with either of them.

Xander scowled. “Do you think that’s smart, Tara? Spike doesn’t have a chip.”

“He has a soul now, Xander,” Tara said gently, looking at him with compassion, knowing exactly why this was so hard for him.

Xander laughed in disbelief. “So now we have Soul-Boy Jr, huh? Is this some kind of disease with vamps? When do we go back to just staking them?”

“We still stake vampires,” Tara replied dryly. “We’ve just never staked Spike.”

His hands curled into fists. Xander had no idea what to do with his anger. There hadn’t really been any stellar examples of such in his life. He wanted to shake Tara, to make her see that Spike couldn’t be trusted, and neither could the little punk who had been with him. His head shot up as they came through the back, and the tension in the shop thickened until it could have been cut with a knife.

“Harris.”

Xander wished that Spike had been rude, wished that he could take out all his grief on the flesh of the vampire—because what else had he ever been there for? With Tara standing right there, however, he felt guilty for wanting to beat on Spike in the first place. “Spike. I thought you were leaving town.”

“Somebody has to keep the Hellmouth in check,” Spike said evenly. “Tara said you lot might need me.”

Xander wanted to tell him that they didn’t need another souled vampire, that he could leave town. Buffy wasn’t around anymore for him to obsess over. “Watch your step, Spike,” Xander ground out. “If I find out this soul thing was just a sham—”

“You’ll stake me good an’ proper. I know the drill.” Spike’s tone was curiously gentle. “Maybe you ought to think ‘bout getting a new song.”

Xander whirled and then stalked out the door, not realizing that he hadn’t even bid Tara goodbye. Spike turned to look at the witch, who was biting her lip in dismay. “Spike—”

“If he was polite, the world would be endin’,” Spike said lightly. “Come to dinner with us tonight, Glinda? You look like you could use a bit of fun.”

Tara hesitated, and then nodded. She could barely remember what fun was. “That would be nice.”

Tim looked from one to the other, a thoughtful expression on his face. He’d never seen Spike this invested in a woman before. This could get interesting.


	7. Chapter 7

**“We are all strangers in a strange land, longing for home, but not quite knowing what or where home is. We glimpse it sometimes in our dreams, or as we turn a corner, and suddenly there is a strange, sweet familiarity that vanishes almost as soon as it comes…” ~Madeleine L’Engle**

Dawn stood outside Spike’s door, wondering what it was she was doing there. She had waited for him to come around after leaving her message with Tim, but there had been no sign of the vampire. When she had finally called Tara to ask about him, the witch had been gentle but firm. “I think you need to apologize, Dawnie. You didn’t treat Spike very nicely.”

The girl had to wonder when things had changed—when anger had become so deeply embedded in her heart that she couldn’t even bear to look at Spike anymore. Although, that wasn’t exactly true.

The worst of it was, she had missed him, had longed for his return, and yet the sight of him was like salt in a wound still-raw. Spike’s very presence reminded her that there were others she had loved who would never be coming back.

Tara had been correct, however. Dawn knew she needed to apologize, even if she didn’t allow him into her life again. It had always been a badge of honor with her that she hadn’t treated Spike as badly as the rest of the Scoobies had.

It wasn’t the vampire who answered the door, but Tim. The young man stared at her, and then asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Spike,” Dawn replied warily. “Is he here?”

Tim hesitated, obviously trying to decide whether or not to tell her anything. “No. He’s out on patrol. I don’t know when he’s going to be back.” Tim disappeared inside the apartment for a moment and then reappeared, stepping outside and locking the door behind him.

Dawn stood there, unsure of herself. She’d steeled herself for this encounter, and now felt limp with the effort. Tim glanced over at her. “Look, I’m going out now, so I can’t stick around. Maybe if you come back during the day you can catch him.”

It was a good suggestion, but Dawn still felt bereft and angry that Spike wasn’t present. She had come to try and apologize, and now the vampire wasn’t there to hear it. “Sure.”

Tim stood by the door as she turned to walk away, a sense of sympathy tugging at his heart. Tara had been right about one thing, at least. The girl had been through quite a bit. He’d begun to sense the stories that Spike had never told, and he could understand why she might be pissed off at the entire world. Her treatment of Spike was merely the fall-out.

Tim understood that sort of anger.

That small bit of understanding, plus Spike’s assurances that he wasn’t going to desert him, gave Tim enough compassion to call after her. “Hey. Dawn. If you don’t have anything else going on tonight, I’m going to a party. You’re welcome to come along, if you want.”

Dawn turned to look at him, and for a moment Tim was certain she was going to turn up her nose at his invitation. Then, something in her face changed, and she was almost pretty. Not just beautiful, but attractive. “I don’t have anything else,” she admitted. “That could be fun.”

~~~~~

Tara hadn’t been to the Bronze in forever. There hadn’t been any reason to, really. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends of her own, because she did. She stayed in contact with suppliers and other witches who understood who and what she was, who could be trusted. Most of them were scattered however, and the few who lived close by were all partnered up.

Tara hadn’t had a serious relationship since Willow. The ending had been raw for a long time, and now that she’d healed, she had yet to meet someone she was that interested in, or who she wanted to spend a lot of time with.

Spike was the first person who had served that particular purpose. He came over nearly every evening now, or they went out. They ate together, and drank—beer or wine or tea, it didn’t matter—and talked of old times and new. Tara had been amazed at his intelligence. She’d never thought of him that way before.

He could be articulate and suave—then crude and rough, within the same moment. Spike was both wise and foolish, thoughtful and thoughtless, man and monster. Never before had Tara known someone with so many layers.

Tara found herself liking him a great deal, in all his incarnations.

She listened to his story of the demon brothel in New Orleans, how he managed to save the madam from a gang of extortionists, and what his reward had been.

Or what reward had been offered. “You turned down free services for a month?” Tara asked, sounding incredulous.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I knew where those ladies had been, Glinda, and—no offense—‘s not where I wanted to be. ‘sides, I’ve never had any trouble findin’ a date.”

That much Tara could believe. She’d seen the way a number of women had been looking at him, and had felt strangely gratified to be his companion for the evening. Even if she didn’t swing that way. “I find that hard to believe,” she teased.

Spike did that thing again—the thing where he suddenly looked like a completely different man. Shy, insecure—he was a strange combination of things indeed. “Haven’t done a lot of dating,” he admitted in a low tone. “’m a one-woman kind of guy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Spike,” Tara replied softly. “Loyalty is a good thing.”

“Is it?” he asked seriously. “Even when it nearly gets you killed, or drives you bloody insane?” Spike’s intense eyes bored into her. “You’d know about that, luv.”

“Leaving is a different kind of loyalty, Spike,” Tara replied. “Maybe is doesn’t always feel like that, but it is.”

Spike shook his head, not entirely convinced. There were still times he woke, dreams of failure fresh in his mind’s eye—watching Buffy’s body fall lifelessly. He still believed that if he had prevented Dawn from getting hurt, everything would have turned out differently. That somehow everything had hinged on his failure to protect the girl, as he’d sworn to do.

If he’d done what he promised, Spike wouldn’t have had to leave to save himself and Buffy both.

“D’you really believe that?” he questioned. “Sometimes, I wonder—maybe if I’d stuck things out here, we might have made it work. Did I give up too soon?”

This was the Spike she was coming to appreciate. Half-cocky, half-insecure—the guy who wondered if he was doing the right thing for those he loved. That desire had always been there, but the soul tore away all the veils he put up.

And, though Tara didn’t know it, her unconditional acceptance also had something to do with his vulnerability.

“I don’t know, Spike,” she answered honestly. “Maybe you did give up too soon. Or maybe if you’d stayed something worse would have happened. You can’t know. Are you really that sorry you left?”

Spike ducked his head, then replied hoarsely, “No. I needed to leave for myself, if not for her. And I wouldn’t have met Tim if I hadn’t left.”

“You never know where your path is going to take you, Spike. Not really.”

“Don’t suppose you do,” he admitted. “You probably never thought you’d be here, with me.”

Tara touched the hand that lay on the table. “No, but it’s a good place to be.”

~~~~~

“Tim! Glad you made it, man,” Ryan greeted him as he came through the door with Dawn in tow. “This your roommate?”

“No,” Tim said with a half-grin. “Not hardly. Spike couldn’t make it. This is Dawn. Dawn, Ryan.”

Ryan gave the young woman an appreciative look. “Glad you could make it. There’s punch in the kitchen and beer. Anything else, just help yourselves.”

Tim nodded. “You got water?”

“Bottles in the fridge,” Ryan replied. “You turning straight-edge on me?”

Tim shrugged. “I just might. Your body is a temple, right?”

Ryan laughed and waved them off. The loud music playing reminded Dawn of the stuff Spike had often listened to the summer he’d stayed with her—raucous and youthful. There were people stuffed into every corner, most with a plastic cup or bottle in hand, and the smell of pot smoke was distinctive, even among the crush of people.

“What did he mean?” Dawn shouted over the noise, following Tim through the crowd. “About being ‘straight-edge?’”

“Straight-edgers don’t use drugs or alcohol,” Tim explained. They reached the kitchen, and he went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. “You want one?”

“I think I’ll try the punch,” Dawn replied with a defiant tilt of her chin.

A lifted eyebrow was Tim’s only response, and he gallantly filled a cup for her. “You might want to be careful with that,” he warned. “Most of it’s probably vodka. I doubt there’s much juice.”

“I can hold my liquor,” she said haughtily. “Anyway, I thought you said this was a party. So let’s party.”

Tim kept a wary eye on Dawn. He recognized what she was doing, of course, having done something similar in the past. You find ways to deal with pain. Sometimes it helped; sometimes it just caused more problems. After she’d downed two cups of punch, he suggested she switch over to water, which she did—telling him that he wasn’t much fun.

He danced with her, because Dawn was a good dancer and she was hot—and because every other guy present wanted to dance with her. They weren’t nearly as shy about where they put their hands as Tim was.

Tim knew he was a little old-fashioned when it came to girls. Maybe it was Spike’s influence, but he figured if you weren’t dating somebody, you ought to be a little more careful about what you touched. He also figured that it was only right to open doors and pull out chairs—if only because Tim had watched Spike do it with female friends he’d brought home in the past.

What usually happened was that his girlfriends developed instant crushes, gushing about how wonderful Spike was. Tim had learned valuable lessons on how you treat women.

And how you got women to like you.

When Dawn started taking hits off the roach being passed around, Tim became concerned. “Have you smoked before?”

“No, but what does that matter?” Dawn asked, already beginning to feel the effects of the weed.

Tim pulled the home-made cigarette out of her fingers and passed it on to the next person, not bothering to take a hit himself. “Because you’ve already had a lot to drink, and you’ve never smoked before. You don’t know how it’s going to affect you.”

Dawn pulled back from him. “You’re just a party-pooper.”

“I’m just trying to make sure that Spike doesn’t kick my ass for getting you drunk and high on the same night,” Tim replied.

She stumbled, her words slurring. “Oh, come on, Tim. Like I can’t do it by myself any night of the week.”

“Yeah, but I’m with you tonight, and apparently I get to be in charge of you,” he muttered. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

Dawn frowned, her lower lip trembling. “Don’t have a home.”

Tim sighed. He had a feeling he was going to be in for a long evening. “What do you mean you don’t have a home?” he asked patiently, steering her out the door. Tim was certain that the girl had some place to go. Tara wouldn’t let her live out on the street, and he thought the witch had mentioned that Dawn lived near campus.

“Don’t have a home,” Dawn said stubbornly. “I had to sell it when my sister died.” She looked at Tim, and her large blue eyes welled up with tears. “That was my mom’s house. She died there.”

Tim bit his lip. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to listen to this girl’s sob story so he could start feeling sorry for her. There wasn’t anything to feel sorry about. Sure she’d had some problems, some rough times, but so had he. Hadn’t his parents kicked him out of the house for lying? Except that he’d been telling the truth when he said his older cousin perped on him.

Just because the perv swore up and down that Tim was lying, his folks had believed the cousin. Tim had the feeling his parents just didn’t want to deal with it or him. It was easier for them to pretend that it didn’t happen and then hope it went away. Easier to pretend that the problem was him.

So you have to excuse him for not wanting to feel sorry for a girl who at least had people that loved her, even if they were all dead.

Just because he didn’t want to feel sorry for Dawn didn’t mean Tim could completely stifle his empathy. He was a softy. “I’m sorry, Dawn,” he finally said. “That completely sucks.”

“My life sucks,” Dawn agreed. “I don’t want my life anymore.”

Tim was supporting most of her weight at this point. The girl obviously couldn’t hold her liquor, and chances were she’d probably get sick.

Tim was betting on _really_ sick, actually. He knew the kind of stuff that went into that punch.

“You know, it’s not that bad a life,” he pointed out helpfully. “I mean, you’ve got friends, you’re going to college. Spike said you’re pretty smart.”

Dawn frowned, trying to take all that in. Her mind was a little soggy at the moment. “I guess,” she replied doubtfully. Then she started crying in earnest. “My sister died. And it wasn’t even to save the world this time. Buffy—Buffy said the hardest thing to do in this world was to live in it, and she couldn’t even do that. If the Slayer can’t do it, why am I even trying?” She stared at him as though he had all the answers. “Why do we even try?”

“I don’t know,” Tim replied honestly. “Maybe because it’s all we can do sometimes.”

And, because it was all he could do, Tim held her hair out of the way when she puked in the gutter, and then he saw her home.

Yeah, he really was a softy.

~~~~~

“You know, this is nice,” Tara said quietly.

Spike glanced over at her, eyebrow raised. “What? Actin’ as bait for the nasties?”

“No,” Tara replied quickly. “Just being out, at night. When I went walking with Willow after dark, I always felt like we were the only two people in the world.”

Spike smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sl—Buffy always came ‘round after dark. You remember that singin’ demon?”

Her eyes darkened with pain recalled. “Yeah. That’s when I found out Willow did a spell on my memory.”

“’s when things started up between me an’ Buffy too,” Spike said. “I thought at the time that she meant it—that Buffy had finally realized she felt somethin’ for me.”

They walked along silently for a while, reliving those painful weeks. Though neither had realized it at the time, it had been the beginning of the end for both relationships. They were so lost in thought that the incoming vampire didn’t register until Tara was on the ground, ripped from Spike’s side.

The newly risen vamp had no time to do more than growl at her before he found Spike’s stake in his back. “You alright?” Spike asked, kneeling down next to her.

Tara found the sense of his hands on her arms rough, with a haste that spoke of care and worry. Spike was patting her down, looking for injury, obviously angry with himself. “Spike, I’m fine.”

He paid no attention. “Bloody hell,” he hissed. “I’m sorry, Glinda. You could have been killed while I wool-gathered. Bloody stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Tara said, pushing herself up off the ground with his aid. When Spike wouldn’t look at her right away, she said a little more forcefully. “Spike, it wasn’t your fault. I’m not helpless, and I’m as guilty of not paying attention as you are.”

He stared at her for a moment, before a smile started at the corners of his mouth. “That your way of tellin’ me not to be such an arse?”

“That’s my way of telling you that not every bad thing that happens is your fault, even if you were standing right there,” Tara replied, amusement coloring her tone. “Besides, even if we were both caught off guard, I was perfectly safe.”

“Which is why you ended up on the ground,” Spike said self-deprecatingly.

Tara rolled her eyes at him. “No, which is why I don’t have a scratch on me. I have my very own monster to chase off the bad guys.”

Spike stared at her, unsure of how to take that last comment. Normally he would have thought it an insult—that was certainly the way that Buffy would have used it. Except that he’d had five years with Tim in between, and the boy had once called Spike, “his very own monster in the closet.” It was said with pride and affection, and Spike caught the same note in Tara’s voice now.

It struck him—though not for the first time—that there was no shame in what he was.

Tara watched in fascination as Spike grinned widely and then let out a sound that was almost a giggle. She had to stifle the urge to ruffle his hair, as he was just so boyishly appealing. In a moment of light-heartedness she rarely saw, he sketched a slight bow and offered her his arm. “Your very own monster, at your service.”

She didn’t miss the look of surprise on his face when she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, nor was she likely to forget the expression in his eyes, one of gratified wonder at her touch.

It reminded her that he wasn’t so much of a monster after all.

~~~~~

Tim was unlocking the door when he heard the footsteps behind him. The stake was in his hand before he could think about it too much. “Nice reflexes.”

“I knew it was you.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“Smelled the smoke,” Tim replied, grinning at him. “You always smoke the same shitty cigs.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “We smoke the same brand, you git.”

They grinned at each other, and then Spike’s smile faded as he took in the passing scent of alcohol and marijuana—and Dawn. “Tim—”

“They had it, but I didn’t partake,” Tim said quietly. “I’m completely straight these days, Spike.”

Spike sighed. “Knew you weren’t high, lad.”

“Dawn was here.”

“Knew that too.” He hesitated. “Is she—”

“She came to talk to you, I invited her to the party, and then I saw her home.” Tim looked at his friend and guardian. “I looked after her.”

“Wouldn’t expect anythin’ different from you, Tim.” Their eyes met, and their gazes held. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

“I’m not a kid.” Tim’s voice held no heat. It was an old argument.

“When you’re a hundred an’ fifty, you can call anybody you want a kid.”

And Spike always managed to get the last word.


	8. Chapter 8

**“Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver.” ~Sophocles**

Dawn had to give herself a day to recover before going to see Spike. It was strange, but for all her anger with him, she didn’t want to see him disappointed in her. She hated to think that Spike might think less of her.

There are some loves that are hard to kill.

She hated to even think it, but Tim had been right. The “punch” had been a lot stronger than she was used to, and being high hadn’t been all that fun. The complete embarrassment of sobbing her heart out and puking her guts up in the street might have had something to do with her dulled interest. The muzzy-headed feeling had been more annoying than embarrassing, but it wasn’t something she cared to repeat either.

Just drinking one’s sorrows away was different.

Dawn was fairly certain that Tim had told Spike about her personal embarrassment. He’d probably thought it was amusing. She got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought about Tim now. Whatever his feelings on her behavior, Tim had been really sweet, had even made sure she got into bed okay.

Then, before he’d left, he had set a bottle of aspirin and a large glass of water on the bedside table. “Punk” no longer seemed an accurate descriptor, which irritated her to no end.

Dawn hated being wrong about anything.

So here she was, outside Spike’s door, wondering what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. And she was really hoping that he didn’t know about Friday night.

Her knock didn’t bring results the first time, so Dawn tried again, wondering if Spike was out in the middle of the day after all. Just when she was about to give up, the door swung open to reveal the vampire, blinking sleepily.

“Dawn?”

His voice had the sound of disbelief. “Spike. Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, stepping aside. “You wanna come in?”

Dawn stepped inside before she could change her mind, glancing around the apartment. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

There was definitely a touch of sarcasm in her tone. Spike and Tim had actually managed to scrounge a couch and chair, though both had seen better days—and possibly better decades. The coffee table was a plank of wood resting on cinder blocks, and was covered with various books and magazines. A couple of posters of bands Dawn didn’t recognize were all there were on the walls. About the only thing remotely attractive about the place was the draped fabric over the windows that smacked of Tara’s touch.

Tara had, after all, done something similar for Dawn’s apartment.

Spike chose to ignore the tone and take the words at face value. “We still have some work left to do, but it’s comin’ along. You want somethin’ to drink?”

“Water?”

“Sure.” He went over and pulled a bottle out of the fridge, handing it to her, gesturing for Dawn to have a seat. She chose the couch. Spike took the chair.

“I take it you’re going to be here a while,” Dawn said.

Spike shrugged. “Don’t really have any other place I have to be, an’ this is good enough for the time bein’.”

A silence fell over them, threatening to choke off the rest of their conversation. “I’m sorry,” Dawn said in a low voice.

Spike thought about playing deaf and making the girl repeat it, but then decided it wasn’t worth it. “’s fine, Dawn. You have a right to be angry with me.”

She was quiet. “Did Tim tell you—”

“He said you went to the party with him an’ he got you safely home. That was all I needed to know,” Spike said. “Dawn—look, ‘m sorry too. I got a lot of regrets ‘bout that year, an’ I know you felt like everybody had abandoned you. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

It was the first time anyone had apologized for leaving her. Dawn knew that her mom and Buffy didn’t really have an option, but no one had ever come right out and said they were sorry for leaving.

And she’d had a lot of people leave.

“I missed you,” she admitted in a voice that ached. “Things got so crazy right after you left, and you were the person I needed the most, but you were gone.”

Spike moved to sit next to her on the couch, hardly daring to believe that this was happening, that Dawn might actually be able to forgive him. That they might still be able to sift beauty from ashes. “I had to go.”

Dawn heard the answering pain in Spike’s voice and knew he was telling the truth. No matter how she felt about it, Spike had needed to leave Sunnydale. “I know.”

“Know this is a hard time for you, Bit, an’ you gotta figure things out for yourself, but Tara’s worried for you.” Spike had to stop himself from touching her. Where before it had been his image that prevented him from reaching out, now it was the knowledge that she would not welcome his touch.

“I’m fine,” Dawn said, but this time there was no anger in her voice. “You know, it’s just—sometimes I need to forget for a while.”

Spike did know, but he’d learned from hard experience that it wasn’t so easy to leave problems behind. Numbing the pain with alcohol only worked so long as the buzz lasted. It was a lesson that could only be learned the hard way, however, and Dawn had already made it clear that she wasn’t going to listen to him.

So he said the only thing he could say. “You ever need anythin’ you can come to me,” Spike said quietly. “I mean that. Doesn’t matter what’s happened, doesn’t matter what you’ve done.”

It would be years before Dawn would completely understand what it cost Spike to say that—what it meant to love someone who told you to go to hell. It was the kind of unconditional love that cannot be fully understood until you had kids of your own.

On the other hand, it wasn’t like Spike was getting any older. He could afford to wait.

Dawn didn’t say anything in reply, couldn’t bring herself to unbend enough to touch him or even offer a thank you. Even so, for the moment, it was enough.

~~~~~

He was dreaming.

_The grit of brick was under his cheek, digging into tender skin. He wasn’t shaving yet—he had one of those baby faces with just the peach fuzz. It served him well most days, making him look younger than he was._

He tried not to think about how sick that made the bastards that paid him.

They were behind him—one holding his face to the wall, egging his friend on, watching while—

Pain. Fear. They were going to kill him, after. One of them had a knife, and they would—

“Tim!”

The voice brought him up abruptly, and he fought for air like a man drowning. He didn’t recognize anything. He wasn’t—

“Hey, are you alright?” Tara was kneeling next to him, one hand on his cheek, her own face creased in concern. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah,” he agreed hoarsely, looking around. Tim remembered now. He and Spike had come over to Tara’s house for dinner, and they had gotten to talking. Tim had had some late nights recently, and he’d been resting on the couch, Luz on the floor next to him. “Must have dropped off.”

She smiled, but her eyes were still worried. “Yeah, Spike said he’d come back and pick you up after patrol. He said he was going to make it quick, so I thought I’d stay here.”

Tim was grateful that she didn’t ask what the nightmare was about. He honestly didn’t think he could bear to tell her—to have her think less of him. She was so good, how could she understand the shame that seemed to stain his very bones? How could she understand the harsh identity that came from living on the streets, from doing what was necessary to survive? Things that most people couldn’t even conceive of.

“I’m going to make us some tea,” Tara said quietly, rising.

Tim watched, amused, as Luz followed her into the kitchen. The dog had long since learned that Tara could be relied upon for a treat, and sure enough, the woman paused a moment to fish a dog biscuit out of the cookie jar she kept especially for Luz. “You’ll spoil her.”

“Aunt’s prerogative,” Tara replied.

Tim levered himself up off the couch to amble into the kitchen to sit at the table. “Aunt, huh?”

“Since I don’t have a cat,” she replied.

“Did you?”

“Miss Kitty Fantastico,” Tara said. “A long time ago. I just haven’t gotten a new kitty yet.” She didn’t mention the fact that it had hurt too much up to this point. Tara thought she might know when the time was right, or when the right animal showed up. For now she would take care of a stray vampire with a soul and his young friend with a faithful dog.

Tim took the cup of tea she held out, giving her a shy smile. “Thanks. This smells good.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Tim owed her a lot, which meant he was uncomfortable not granting her request. “I guess.”

“Why are you living with Spike?”

It was an easier question to answer than he’d thought it would be. “My folks kicked me out when I was about fifteen, I guess, and then when Spike—found me, he offered me a place to crash. I just never left.”

There was a moment of silence as Tara digested that. “I waited to leave home until I was 19,” she admitted. “And then I moved most of the way across the country to get away from my family. I didn’t realize how bad things were at home until I’d been away for more than a year.”

She watched as Tim stared into his cup. “We can’t help the things that are done to us.”

That comment caused him to glance up, startled. There was a sort of terrible hope on his face, hope that she might actually know his pain, and fear that she did. It was terrible to hope that another person had experienced the same sort of pain, but how else can they know you at your darkest?

He said nothing, because sometimes there are truths that cannot be spoken aloud. There are secrets too terrible to tell. They exist in the darkest corners of the soul, never to be cleansed.

Tara rose from her seat at the table and came over to him, placing a kiss on his forehead. It was the sort of gesture a sister might make, or perhaps an aunt. It was the kind of thing that had long been missing in Tim’s life—so much so that he felt his eyes misting.

Sometimes ordinary beauty can bring a person to tears.

She smoothed Tim’s hair back from his face tenderly, a Wendy to his Lost Boy. “You need a haircut.”

Tim grinned, laughing a little. “Haven’t had time. I don’t suppose you give haircuts too?”

“You’d be surprised at what I can do,” Tara replied. “So. Shirt off.”

“Now?”

“No time like the present.” She stopped his movement with a gentle hand. “It gets easier with time. You don’t feel quite so much like you’ve got a big sign taped to your chest.”

Tim stared at her for a moment and then enveloped her in a hug. “Thanks, Tara.”

“It’s my pleasure, sweetie.”

~~~~~

You walked places in Sunnydale, Tim noticed. Spike had hardly used the Mustang at all since they got into town, but it didn’t bother him all that much. They’d walked a lot in New York and New Orleans too. Actually, Tim was getting used to the small town feel, and found that it was a nice change.

“Like the haircut,” Spike commented. He was watching Luz trot ahead, sniffing at various objects, coming back every few minutes to check in with them. “Tara’s work?”

“Yeah, she thought I needed one,” Tim replied, running a hand through his shorter hair self-consciously. “She’s really cool.” It was all he could say to express how he felt about her—this wordless, nameless love that had sprung up. It made his chest ache.

Spike, who understood Tim’s inability to put feelings to words better than one might think, just grunted. “She is.”

“We could stay here for a while,” Tim offered. “If you wanted to, I mean.”

Spike nodded slowly. “’m needed here.” He laughed and there was a bitter sort of humor in the sound. “Never thought I’d say this, but ‘m comfortable here.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“I had the nightmare again tonight.”

He sighed. “’m sorry, lad. I wish I’d gotten there five minutes earlier. Or five months earlier.”

Tim hesitated. Spike knew about his time on the streets, but not really why he’d been there in the first place. The vampire had never asked the question, and Tim didn’t know if he wanted to share the answer.

But you had to start somewhere.

“It wouldn’t have been the first time.”

Spike looked over at him, then simply put an arm around his shoulders. They walked the rest of the way back to the apartment in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**“The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.” ~Saint Jerome**

_He hadn’t been entirely sane when he’d returned from Africa. Although, he wasn’t completely crazy either. Spike had finally understood why Angel was the way he was—and with that understanding came the will to pull himself out of the depths of despair._

Spike swore he wasn’t going to be like Angel—ever.

There had been the brief, fleeting thought of going back to Sunnydale, trying to explain what had happened to the Slayer, tell her he’d gotten his soul for her. That’s what it had been, though—brief and fleeting. Spike hadn’t any desire to get his heart trampled yet again.

Spike had expected to feel remorse for his crimes. He’d expected to be overwhelmed by guilt, especially for what had almost happened in Buffy’s bathroom. What he hadn’t expected was to feel angry about what she’d done to him.

They said there was a thin line between love and hate. Spike was wondering how often one could cross back and forth in a lifetime.

So he found himself back in New York, wandering the streets, finding ways to make a buck here and there. None of his money-making methods were legal—he was still a vampire, still a thief and a sneak. He was still Spike, no matter how much William might protest that fact.

Spike clung to his vampiric identity fiercely in the wake of his soul’s return. He wasn’t yet ready to give up the ghost of the Big Bad. It’s what prevented him from lying down on a rooftop and meeting the sun a lot of days.

Occasionally, he’d do something heroic. He’d saved a few people from getting eaten by vampires. He fed the occasional stray and watched out for the little old lady who lived in his building. He chased out the drug dealers so that the kids didn’t have to pass them in the lobby on their way out everyday.

Spike refused to believe that it made him a hero.

Heroes didn’t snack on the drug dealers. On the other hand, how else was he supposed to make certain they didn’t come back?

He’d been wandering aimlessly one night, thinking about as little as possible, when he’d heard the sounds. They were unmistakable, as was the smell of sex and blood.

It took him about two seconds to snap one guy’s neck and another minute to drain the second. Spike wasn’t feeling particularly charitable, nor did he want to give anyone a second chance.

The worst of it was that he recognized the kid.

“Tim? Gotta get you to a hospital, mate.”

“No.” It was more a whimper than anything else, and Spike could tell from his pupils that the kid was probably just coming down off something. “Please. You can’t. They’ll make me go back.”

Spike didn’t ask back where. Every kid had a sad story, and each one was more heart-wrenching than the last. And then the poor guy was crying—sobbing really, out of relief or pain or shame or maybe a combination of all of that. There wasn’t any choice, really. He had to take the kid home with him. Spike knew him. It was different when you knew them.

That was the night that Spike became a hero, even if it was only to one boy.

~~~~~

Tim hadn’t meant to even _like_ Dawn. His first impression of her had been less than great, and subsequent meetings hadn’t gone all that well either. She’d gripped his heart a bit that night they’d gone to the party, however, and he’d seen her home. You can’t really take care of somebody without feeling a little something for them, even if it was only pity.

And pity could change into something else.

His feelings probably wouldn’t have had a chance to change all that much, but since Dawn was actually trying to be nice, she accepted Tara’s invitation to dinner. She was a different girl there. Interesting and funny and full of stories about Spike and the summer he’d taken care of her.

It felt like a family dinner—or what Tim imagined a family dinner would feel like. He didn’t remember ever sitting down around the table with both parents at the same time.

Spike was more relaxed and cheerful than Tim remembered ever seeing him. Tara was obviously thrilled that Spike and Dawn were getting along. Tim was honestly just grateful to be included.

Dawn, in a fit of helpfulness, offered to do the dishes, and Tim offered to help. “You going out tonight?” she asked as she handed him a wet plate.

Tim wiped it dry with the towel. “I hadn’t planned on it. Not unless I go patrol with Spike.”

“You like that sort of thing?” Dawn asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “It makes me feel like I’m helping, you know? After—well, Spike started teaching me self-defense and stuff, and I begged to go out with him. It was fun.”

Dawn smiled. “I used to beg my sister to go out with her, but Buffy wasn’t really keen on letting me slay. She wanted to protect me.”

Tim got a far away look in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I think Spike let me come just to keep an eye on me.”

Their eyes met and a connection was made. They were both semi-alone in the world—both orphans of sorts. “You know,” Dawn said hesitantly. “There’s a movie playing at the theater I want to see.”

Tim was quiet for a moment. It might be easier not to go there, not to get involved with this girl who was so out of his league. “Okay,” he said finally. “I haven’t been to the movies in a while.”

~~~~~

“What do you think about Dawn and Tim?” Tara asked Spike later that evening.

The vampire thought for a moment. “I think they could be good for each other.” Then he added, “Although, an’ I hate to say this, I think Tim would be better for Dawn than she’d be for him.”

Tara couldn’t disagree. She loved Dawn, but there were times that the girl exasperated her, especially recently. It didn’t help that the witch understood what Dawn was going through; in fact, it simply made her wish she’d snap out of it quickly, knowing how much damage you could do to your life in a short period of time.

“Has Tim ever dated anyone?” Tara asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Spike smiled a little and then shook his head. “No. He’s had plenty of female friends. They come ‘round and tell him all their troubles an’ then they go back to their boyfriends. He’s a good listener.”

Tara smiled. “Like someone else I could name.”

Spike glanced over at her, knowing who she was referring to. “Have my moments,” he admitted. “I worry about him sometimes, though.”

Tara was quiet. “It takes time to heal, Spike,” she said, speaking from personal experience. “Sometimes longer than you want it to. But you’ve really done a good job with him. He’s a great kid.”

Spike shook his head. “Tim mostly came that way. I didn’t do much.” He sighed. “Have to say he did more for me, you know. I was fairly aimless till I found him, an’ then once I had somethin’ to focus on—it was easier.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask.”

Tara was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “You never told me why you didn’t come back to Sunnydale after you got the soul.”

Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. “No. Don’t suppose I did.” There was a long pause. “It hurt too much,” he finally admitted. “Maybe if I hadn’t met Tim I’d have come back sooner, but I spent weeks seein’ him through the worst of it, an’ then I had to get him through high school before we could pick up an’ move. By that point it was easier to stay away.”

The silence that fell between them was comfortable at this point, and Tara knew Spike well enough to know that he wasn’t finished yet. “I didn’t want the soul to make a difference,” Spike said in a low voice. “Knew if I came back, an’ the Slayer could love me because I had a soul, it would hurt too bad. An’ I couldn’t bear to have her turn away again either.” He smiled self-consciously. “Now you know the real truth, Glinda. The Big Bad’s just a big coward in the end.”

Tara gave him a severe look. “Don’t be ridiculous, Spike. Anybody who would take in a teenager voluntarily is a saint in my book. That’s not the mark of a coward.”

If vampires could blush, Spike would have. “Felt responsible, Tara. What the hell was I supposed to do? Nobody else wanted him, an’ he needed me.” Spike shook his head. “I can’t tell you what it felt like to know somebody needed me that bad, an’ I needed him.” There was a raw note in his voice. “He’s mine, an’ that means everythin’ to me.”

She did understand—knew over the course of the last few weeks of spending time with Spike that his heart was as deep as the sea. Spike needed to be needed. It was inherent to his nature. He needed to take care of someone or something, and for all the good-natured grumbling he did about Tim and his tattoos and Luz, he loved every minute of it.

Tara had realized that Spike would have been perfectly content staying in Sunnydale with the Slayer. He would have believed himself to be needed, simply because Buffy had no one else to watch her back as competently as he could.

If Spike had thought he was needed in Sunnydale—for Dawn and the Hellmouth—he would have stayed until he was dust.

“I’m glad you came back, Spike,” Tara said softly.

Spike looked at her, and for once his expression was unreadable. “Ta, luv.”

She noticed he didn’t say he was glad to be back.

~~~~~

Xander had been out having a drink or two—or three or four—with the guys when he saw Dawn pass by, that punk kid by her side. He had known that Spike was still in town, had seen him a few times and had made it a point to ignore the vampire.

Not that Xander thought it would hurt Spike’s feelings to be ignored. He just hadn’t wanted to deal with him.

There hadn’t been a major apocalypse in Sunnydale for years, but the energies of the Hellmouth still drew more than Sunnydale’s fair share of demons and vampires. Where once the Scoobies would have tried to keep as tight a rein as possible on the vamps, Xander had gotten into the habit of just taking care of himself. He carried a stake, a bottle of holy water, and a cross at all times, and he locked the doors of his car when he drove after dark.

Xander would not have minded so much if he had been taken out by a vampire or a demon. It would have been fitting for even an amateur demon-hunter. Instead, he survived, moved through endless days that were all the same.

Ever since Buffy’s death and Willow’s departure, Xander felt as though the world had no color.

He’d begun avoiding the Magic Box with distaste, and had been tempted to call Giles or Willow to let them know that Spike was back in town. Xander wasn’t sure what he expected them to do, or if it really mattered except that it might bring one or the other back to Sunnydale, however briefly.

Even that seemed like a meaningless fight against fate, and Xander felt even more superfluous than before. Spike was looking after Tara and Dawn, and he was left with—what?

Again, Xander questioned his reasons for staying in Sunnydale at all. Wondered why he didn’t go somewhere else to make a clean break of it as Willow and Anya had done. Why he couldn’t seem to make friends that would help ease the loneliness.

And he just couldn’t muster up the energy to do any of that.

Xander was surprised at the bolt of distaste that went through him at the sight of Tim and Dawn walking. They weren’t touching, nor did they seem particularly couple-y. Maybe it was just that Dawn seemed happy with someone who wasn’t him. Or that Tim had come to town with Spike, which put him at an immediate disadvantage.

Or maybe it was just that Xander was feeling terribly envious of anyone who looked like they were having a better time than he was.

Even so, he wasn’t quite drunk enough to do anything about it.

~~~~~

“Well, that movie wasn’t lame,” Tim said tongue-in-cheek.

Dawn elbowed him in the ribs. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“The guy was a ponce,” Tim said, showing that he’d picked up a bit of Spike’s slang. You couldn’t live with a British vampire for five years and not pick up a few things, after all.

Dawn considered that opinion, and then nodded rather reluctantly. “Okay, he was. You thought the girl was cute, though. Admit it.”

“You don’t have to have talent to be cute, you just have to have good genetics,” Tim replied.

Dawn had talked him into the chick-flick of the week at the cinema, but Tim hadn’t minded too much. It was enough just to be out, seeing a movie with a pretty girl. Being able to act like a normal 20-year-old guy was enough of a rarity that he appreciated it every chance he got.

Feeling like a normal guy was even more precious.

Now they were just walking and talking, figuring out that they had a little more in common than just knowing Spike and Tara.

“You wanna get some coffee?” Dawn asked as they passed the Espresso Pump.

Tim shrugged. “Fine by me.” They got their coffee and sat at a table off in the corner. “So what’s up with you tonight?” he asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dawn asked, sounding slightly offended.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Dawn, you haven’t wanted to hang out with any of us before. And except for the party the other night you haven’t wanted to be around me either.”

She looked away uncomfortably. “I didn’t have anything else going on tonight.” In an even lower voice, Dawn said, “And I wanted to thank you for the other night. You were—nice.”

Tim couldn’t even begin to explain how tired he was of being called nice. Every time a girl said he was “nice,” it was the prelude to the “let’s just be friends” talk. Girls didn’t seem to date nice guys. “Yeah, well, Spike would have kicked my ass if I let anything happen to you.”

Dawn glanced up, startled at his rather surly tone. “Well, excuse me for appreciating you walking me home.”

“It’s not that.” Tim shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry. That was rude.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. We’ll just forget it.” Dawn looked at his hands, resting loosely against the paper coffee cup. Normally she would have noticed the tattoos and not thought anything about it, but tonight at least, the world wasn’t revolving around her.

Besides, Dawn had a matching scar on her own wrist.

“What happened?” she asked softly, touching the thick white line with gentle fingers. There were other scars there as well, but one stood out. Dawn suspected that most people saw the tattoos on Tim’s arms and never noticed the scars. She had to wonder if that wasn’t the point.

Tim watched her hand trace the outline. “Cut myself.”

“On what?” she asked. “You must have needed stitches.”

He didn’t want to talk about it with this girl who probably wouldn’t understand anyway. She thought he was a “nice guy,” after all, and nice guys didn’t do what he had done. “It’s not important.”

In reply, Dawn turned her own wrist over to reveal the thin white line. “When I was fifteen I cut myself to prove I was real,” she explained. “It completely freaked my mom and sister out.”

Tim began to think she might understand after all. “Sometimes, when things got really bad, I didn’t know what else to do. So I would just—”

“Cut?”

“Yeah,” he said, relieved, looking at the scar Dawn had asked about specifically. “That time—I just got carried away. Spike found me, and there was blood all over the bathroom.” Tim laughed. “He changed faces on me, told me it was stupid to bleed that much around a vampire. I was a mess.”

“Aren’t we all?” Dawn asked quietly. “Everything just hurts so much right now.”

Tim didn’t have the heart to tell her things would get better when there was no guarantee. “I get that.”

They drank the rest of their coffee in silence.


	10. Chapter 10

**“Not only is life a bitch, it has puppies.” Adrienne E. Gusoff**

Tim finished ringing up the sale and handed the lady her bag. “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” she replied, smiling warmly.

He watched her go, an answering smile on his own lips. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened in the last couple months. Not only did he and Spike have their own place, but it looked as though they might be staying for a while. Maybe even longer than they had stayed in New Orleans.

Tim had the sense that most of the reason Spike was staying was Tara. Dawn was important as well, of course, but Spike seemed to have bonded with the shy witch more than with any other woman. At least, in Tim’s time with the vampire.

He couldn’t help but feel that he owed Tara quite a bit. She had taken a chance in giving him the job at the Magic Box. It really was the perfect place for him to work, since people pretty much expected the employees of a magic store to look a bit different. No one even blinked at his tattoos and piercings. Plus, Tim enjoyed it. He had thoughts of maybe opening his own shop someday, just not the magic stuff. Maybe he’d sell comics and books or something like that.

For the first time in years, Tim was beginning to think about the future as a reality.

He’d even begun to think about calling his parents, letting them know he was alive. Spike had gone to see them after he’d rescued Tim. The vampire had waited a few days, wanting to be sure that Tim wasn’t going to do something stupid in his absence, like kill himself. After Spike had returned, all he’d said was that he’d worked something out with Tim’s parents and Tim was going to be staying with him from now on.

Tim could have told Spike that his parents didn’t much care. He’d often gotten the impression that they hadn’t really wanted a child in the first place, and whatever they had wanted, it wasn’t one like him. He hadn’t received very good grades, nor had he excelled at sports. The charisma both his parents had in spades seemed to have skipped a generation as well, and he didn’t have many friends.

The surprise came after getting his first report card while living with Spike. Somehow the vampire had managed to make his guardianship official, since the school required a signature. The mostly B’s he’d gotten would never have satisfied his folks. Spike, on the other hand, had taken him out to dinner to celebrate the solitary A in his literature class.

It had seemed so much easier to do well in school once the pressure was off. It had been easier knowing somebody cared.

Tim hadn’t spoken with his parents since then. He’d sent them notice that he was graduating, but there had been no reply, and they didn’t show up. Yet even though the ceremony was in the middle of the day, Spike had managed to come. The sewer tunnels in New York were extensive.

Maybe now he should just call and let them know he was alive and doing okay. Maybe they wouldn’t care, and then again, maybe they did wonder every so often about their only son.

Maybe.

It didn’t matter, really. Spike was all the family he needed, although it was nice to have Tara around too. He was content to be where he was.

He glanced back as he heard a sound from the storage room. Tara was out getting lunch for the both of them. Tim had protested the first few times she insisted on feeding him, but he realized that Tara liked taking care of him. Which was nice. It was such a difference from the way things had been in the past.

Spike came through the back storage room a moment later. “Hey, Spike.”

“Tim,” Spike smiled. “How’s it goin’ today?”

“Not too bad,” he replied. “We’ve been busy on and off. What are you doing here?”

Spike shrugged. “Needed to get a few things, ‘s all.” Luz went over to nudge his hand in greeting, and the vampire scratched behind her ears.

“You need any help?”

“I know where things are.”

Tim watched, feeling a great deal of curiosity. Spike had never shown much interest in magic, saying that there were too many consequences. He’d bought burba weed in the past for his blood, but that was about it.

This time, when Spike brought his purchases to the counter, it was not only burba weed but several other things that Tim didn’t know much about. “Okay, Spike. What’s up?”

Spike lifted an eyebrow. “Nothin’ you need to worry about.”

“Come on,” Tim said. “You aren’t doing anything crazy, are you?”

He looked hurt. “Would I do that?” When Tim made no moves to begin ringing the sale, Spike sighed. “There’s a job. I need to do a bit of magic for it.”

“I thought you didn’t like magic.”

“I don’t,” Spike replied. “I also don’t like the idea of a demon gettin’ its grubby hands on a potentially dangerous crystal.”

Tim grinned. “So you’re going to steal it? Is that what the magic is for?”

Spike hesitated and then decided it was no use trying to conceal his plans. Tim had helped him out in the past, but this was a little different. It was more dangerous, for one thing.

On the other hand, Tim had proven himself handy. There was something to be said for a kid who’d lived on the streets. You didn’t have to worry about shocking them.

“No, the magic is to create a replica so I can sell it as the genuine article to the guy who wants to buy it. But, yeah, I’m goin’ to steal the original.” Spike held up a hand. “Before you ask, no, you can’t help me with the magic, but I’ll let you come along for the breakin’ in part of the evening.”

Tim’s whole face lit up. “Really? You mean it?”

Spike smiled. “Yeah. You pick locks better than I do anyway.”

The bell over the door rang as Tara walked in. “Hey guys,” she greeted both of them, smiling. The smile faded as she saw the spell ingredients on the counter. “Spike—” Her voice held a note of warning.

“I know,” he replied softly. “I need to talk to you about it. Need you to help me.”

Tara hesitated, and then nodded. “Later, okay? I’ve got a bunch of paperwork to go over before I can leave tonight.”

She moved to pass them, and Spike stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “Tara-luv, ‘s not what it looks like. I promise.”

Tara met his eyes and some of the customary warmth returned to her face. “I trust you, Spike.”

~~~~~

She hadn’t been to a meeting like this for a long time. Even long before Buffy’s death, Tara hadn’t gone to many of the Scooby meetings, not since things had gotten difficult between her and Willow. She had always been an auxiliary member of the group, never one of the core players—much like Spike. They had been called upon when their services were needed, and not until then.

“Okay, Spike,” Tara said. “What’s up with this? Normally those kinds of ingredients shouldn’t be mixed.”

Spike sighed. “I got word that a demon here in town has a crystal he’s plannin’ to sell to a buyer in L.A. ‘s the Warzcyx crystal. You heard of it?”

It sounded like too many consonants to Tara as she took another bite of the pizza that Spike had ordered. Tim was munching on his own slice and listening intently. When she shook her head, Spike nodded. “’s a bit of a Holy Grail to the demon world. Takes a lot of other ingredients an’ a lot of power, but you can use that crystal in an invincibility spell. It’s the key ingredient.”

“You’re not planning to steal the crystal and do the spell yourself,” Tara said, her voice incredulous.

“’course not!” Spike sputtered, insulted. “I might use it for good, but what happens if somebody steals if from me? Not to mention the fact that every demon in the world would come after me. Somebody could get hurt. No, ‘m goin’ to steal the crystal, make a new one, sell the fake for the money, and then destroy the original.”

“And you want me to…” Tara left it hanging.

Spike grinned wolfishly. “I want you to help me destroy the original.”

Tara leaned back in her chair, considering it. “You’re going to use the ingredients to create a fake. You know how to do that?”

“’ve been doin’ my homework. Plan is to grab the crystal tomorrow, create the fake, an’ then head to L.A. to make the sale.” Spike cocked his head. “You in?”

It was an adventure. Tara hadn’t been on an adventure in so long she’d forgotten what the rush of adrenalin felt like, forgot what it felt like to be an integral part of a team. “And you said you weren’t in the habit of doing anything heroic.”

“It’s not heroic to be a thief,” Spike said shortly. “That’s Robin Hood crap. An’ ‘m not givin’ the money to the poor either. It’s meant to pay the rent for a while.”

Tim leaned in. “Can I go to L.A. with you?”

Spike shook his head. “No, lad, that I can’t risk. I don’t want you seen while I’m there. If they manage to trace me back here, I don’t want you connected.”

“And besides,” Tara said reasonably. “I’ll need you to watch the shop while I’m gone.”

Spike looked over at her sharply. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I needed to go to L.A. too, Spike,” Tara replied. “I’ll just hitch a ride with you. I hate making the drive alone.”

There wasn’t much of an argument Spike could make to that, and so he shrugged. “Suit yourself. Probably be an overnight trip.”

“We’ll split the hotel room, then,” Tara said reasonably. “It’ll save us both money.”

Spike chuckled. “As you wish.”

~~~~~

He watched as Tim picked the lock effortlessly, nimble fingers working the picks without trouble. “Good thing you’ve got ethics, lad,” Spike murmured in a low voice.

Tim’s only reply was a nearly silent chuckle as the lock popped open. The owner of the domicile was gone, busy playing kitten poker in the back room at Willy’s. Spike had it on very good authority that he didn’t leave till the wee hours of the morning, and right now it was just before midnight.

Spike crept into the small apartment first. It wasn’t much. The demon who lived there was basically humanoid, and he preferred living in a more cushy environment than most. It was the main reason he was selling the crystal, rather than trying to use it himself. He wanted the cash more than he wanted the power.

Tim followed close on his heels. “Do you know where this thing is, or do we have to toss the place?”

“Word on the street is that he keeps it in a safe.” The vampire’s eyes went around the apartment, and his eyes went yellow as he brought the demon forward. “There.”

It was so cliché as to be annoying. Tim snorted. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Never told you demons were the smartest bunch.” Spike’s face twisted in distaste as he looked around the small apartment. “An’ they aren’t the best decorators either.”

Tim stared at the safe. “So, you know how to get one of these open, right?”

“I do when I have the combination,” Spike replied. “Lucky for us, Jack Daniels works like a truth serum on this bloke’s kind. Slipped it into his regular drink while he wasn’t lookin.’” He quickly spun the dial and opened the safe, pulling out the small box inside. “Bag?” Tim held open the silk bag they’d brought to conceal the crystal. “An’ that’s that.”

“That’s it?” Tim asked, disappointed there wasn’t going to be more action. “That was too easy.”

Spike gave him a wry look. “You’re only sayin’ that because you’ve never been on one of these trips that went sour. Trust me, it’s not pretty. Careful plannin’ saves lives. Remember that.”

“Right,” Tim said, concealing his dismay. He’d been looking forward to something a little more exciting.

Spike, catching his expression, laughed. “Don’t worry, lad. You stay in this town long enough, you’ll get all the excitement you can handle. I can promise you that.”

~~~~~

Dawn was feeling at loose ends. She’d called Tara to see if she could come over, but the witch wasn’t at home. Calling Spike would have been an option, except that she didn’t have his phone number. Dawn didn’t even know if the guys _had_ a phone, and now she was kicking herself for not finding out.

The night she’d spent with Tim and the others had been one of the best she’d had in a long time, even though there hadn’t been any kind of alcohol involved.

In that evening, Dawn had caught a glimpse of the way things used to be—before her mom died, before Buffy died. The feeling had been the same—but different. She supposed it was the future she’d seen, rather than the past.

Tonight, however, Tara wasn’t home and she had no way of getting in touch with Tim or Spike without going out looking for them. That was really the only reason why she was at the Bronze.

“Hey, Dawn.” She recognized him from one of her classes—maybe her lit class. She thought his name was Alan.

“Hey,” she replied, flirting effortlessly. She liked it when guys got that look in their eyes—the look that said they couldn’t resist her charms. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

“Partying,” Alan replied, holding up a plastic cup. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Dawn gave him a sultry smile in reply. It was something to do after all. “I thought you’d never ask.”

~~~~~

_He lay amidst the rubble, the rip in the sky opening above him. His fault, he realized. All his fault. If he had only managed to bring Doc down with him. If he had only been faster, smarter, not let the demon get the drop on him so easily._

If only he hadn’t taken Dawn to see Doc for the resurrection spell.

Spike could always think of a thousand things he might have done differently as he lay there, watching Buffy’s body fall seven stories.

It was the light that pulled him out of the nightmare. It was always the same—watching the Slayer fall, and it always seemed to take years rather than moments.

“Spike? You okay, man?” Spike pushed himself up from the bed to see Tim watching him with concern. “You were making a lot of noise in here.”

Spike scrubbed a hand over his face wearily. “You’re not the only one who has nightmares, Tim.”

“Never thought I was,” Tim replied. “Look, you want some coffee or blood or something?”

Spike was about to say no when he caught the look on Tim’s face, realizing that the young man needed to help. “Yeah, coffee would be good. ‘m not hungry just yet.”

He watched as Tim went out to the kitchen, rising with a sigh. Spike paused to pull on a pair of pants, but didn’t bother with a shirt. One of the nice things about living with another guy is that you didn’t have to worry about wandering around half-dressed.

“Thanks,” Spike said as he accepted the mug of coffee. “Thought you had to work.”

“It’s my day off,” Tim replied. “Since Tara’s leaving me to run the shop by myself, she said I could have the day.”

“Right.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

Spike started laughing. Those were the same words that he used on Tim when the boy woke from one of his nightmares. “Did I tell you about the Slayer dying?”

“You said something about it,” Tim said, filling Luz’s bowl with food before pouring his own cup of coffee. “Her friends brought her back.”

“That’s right,” Spike replied. “She fell—the Slayer—seven stories, to save Dawn. ‘s a long story. I’ll have to tell you the whole thing some day. Suffice it to say that I was s’posed to make sure it didn’t come to that. ‘s always the same. I’m always layin’ there, just watchin’ her fall forever.”

Tim frowned, staring into his cup. “That really sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” Spike agreed.

Tim thought for a moment. “Why won’t you let me come to L.A. with you, Spike? And don’t tell me it’s too dangerous, because you’ve let me do risky stuff with you before.”

“Some of it’s the danger,” Spike replied. “If things go sour, I don’t want you there. Matter of fact, Tara might be comin’ with me, but I’ll be doin’ the sale alone.”

“It’s more than that,” Tim objected.

Spike hesitated, choosing his next words carefully, not wanting to insult him. “I don’t want you marked too much by this, Tim. Someday you’re goin’ to want your own life, your own place. Demon huntin’ isn’t for the average bloke.”

“And I’m average?” Tim asked. “Spike, I haven’t been average since—” He broke off abruptly.

Spike knew what Tim was referring to without it being said. “How old were you?”

“Ten.” Tim let out a long breath. “My parents sent me to stay with my aunt. She had a son. He was about four years older, I guess. It happened every summer until I told them I wouldn’t go anymore. When they didn’t believe me, I ran.”

“That was after the diner.”

“Yeah, I guess it was towards the end of June.” Tim looked up at Spike. “I’ll never be normal, Spike. I guess I’m finally figuring out that I might not die young, but I was getting tested for AIDS when I was fifteen. I’d already been on every drug you could find. I’ve done things I don’t even have a name for. That’s not something that goes away.” Tim’s eyes were intense. “If this is the life I want, then I think I have the right to choose it.”

Spike was silent for a moment before nodding. “If this is what you want, then you do have the right. But not this time.” When Tim looked ready to protest, Spike repeated, “Not this time. I mean it.”

Tim made a face. “You’re still going to try to protect me, aren’t you?”

“’s my job,” Spike replied seriously. “If somethin’ ever happened to you—”

The silence stretched between them, laden with love. “I think we should try to get through _Doom III_ today,” Tim said. “Since we don’t have anywhere we have to be.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Spike grinned. “You can watch me kick your ass.”


	11. Chapter 11

**“The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.” ~Umberto Eco**

Tara was quiet on the drive to L.A. She wasn’t concerned about the shop, knowing that Tim could be trusted to take care of things. It was Dawn who worried her now, as she hadn’t been able to reach the girl and let her know they were going out of town. After the night Dawn spent with the three of them, Tara had hoped she would come around, but it wasn’t looking likely.

“You’ve been quiet, pet.”

Spike’s warm voice startled Tara out of her thoughts, and she glanced over at him. All that could be seen was a dim outline against black glass, the brightness of his hair and pale skin giving him away. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Care to share?”

She smiled. “About Dawn. I tried to reach her to let her know we were leaving town, but—”

“No good, huh?” Spike asked, disappointment flashing across his face. “I went over there before we left.”

“You did?” Tara’s voice was colored in by surprise.

“She was properly hung over,” Spike said, sounding almost wry, but Tara could hear the pain behind it. “Thought maybe—”

Tara put a hand on his arm. “We both did.” She laughed shortly. “Trust me, if I thought it would do any good, I’d put a spell on her that would pound some sense into her head. Or something. I’m just not sure what to do. How did she take the news?”

“’bout like you’d expect. Asked me if I was really comin’ back, an’ then told me she wasn’t sure I was tellin’ the truth.” Spike rolled his eyes. “Girl’s more melodramatic than her sister ever was, an’ that’s sayin’ something.”

Tara had to hide her smile, since her traveling companion was something of a drama prince himself. “I have to believe that she’s going to grow out of this.”

“I think she will,” Spike said quietly. “I just hate to see her hurtin’.” He chuckled slightly. “’m just glad I didn’t have to go through this with Tim. He’d done his teenage rebellion by the time I got him.” There was a slight pause, and then Spike said quietly, “I think Tim was just so relieved to have a place to crash, he wasn’t goin’ to jeapordize it.”

“I could see that,” Tara admitted. “Too bad some of that common sense hasn’t rubbed off on Dawn yet.”

Spike laughed. “That would be nice.”

They drove for a while in silence, although the quiet in the car was more comfortable. Tara found herself drifting off to sleep, perfectly content knowing that Spike was taking care of things. She supposed it spoke to the strangeness of her life to say that she trusted a vampire more than anyone else, but then again, Spike was a very strange vampire.

~~~~~

Tim found it strange to be home alone. Not that there weren’t times when Spike was out and he stayed in, but having the vampire out of town was a completely different story. He didn’t remember that happening in the five years they’d lived together.

Luz was good company, to a certain point. As great a dog as she was, she didn’t talk back. Tim missed Tara’s quiet presence in the shop, and he missed Spike giving him shit when he got home.

While Tim didn’t like to admit it, he enjoyed having people look after him. It wasn’t that he needed it, since he was certain that he’d be just fine on his own. It was kind of like going back to his childhood and getting everything he’d never gotten from his parents from Spike. Having Tara around, although still novel, was beginning to feel natural as well. It was one of the major reasons Tim wanted to stay in Sunnydale.

You could call anywhere home as long as you had people around you who cared. Spike had taught him that.

The Bronze was merely a distraction to get him through the night. Tim felt restless and didn’t want to stay in. Luz would be fine on her own for a few hours. The club was crowded, and most of the tables were filled. Tim saw a few people he recognized from Ryan’s party, and he waved a cheerful hello to them without saying much. He was there to watch more than participate.

He got his one beer for the evening and started to circulate among the crowd, frowning when he saw Dawn dancing with some no-neck. For a brief, insane moment, Tim was tempted to go over and cut in, but the guy would probably cream him.

Honestly, Tim hadn’t decided if Dawn was worth it yet.

He stopped to chat with a few people he knew at random intervals, asking a few over to play video games and eat pizza the following night. Tim wished he had the nerve to ask Dawn to come but was worried it would sound too much like a date and scare her off.

Tim was just preparing to leave when he heard her voice behind him. “Hey, Tim! What are you up to?”

“Just hanging out,” he replied. “The apartment was kind of quiet tonight.”

Dawn made a face. “Yeah, with Spike out of town, I guess it would be. He came by the other day, but I was, uh, indisposed.”

Tim laughed. “Yeah, so I heard.” He faltered slightly. “You, uh, want to come over tomorrow night? Spike and Tara won’t be home till the day after, and we were just going to play some video games and eat pizza. It won’t be anything exciting, but—”

“I’ll be there,” Dawn replied, touching him lightly on the arm. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. “I have to get back, but I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?”

“Eight,” Tim replied, watching Dawn smile brightly and dash off into the crowd with the sinking feeling that he was going to get his heart trampled all over again.

~~~~~

Spike glanced over at the sleeping figure and smiled. It had been a long time since he’d had someone he could call a friend—not really since Buffy, and that was iffy at best. There had been moments in their relationship when they had tentatively begun moving towards friendship, but it had been derailed.

Who before that? Spike wondered silently. Drusilla had been both his Sire and his lover, but he had never had a true partnership with her. She had required too much care for that. Angelus had been something of a brother, until he’d betrayed that trust by proving that he could take Drusilla whenever he wanted.

There had been the odd minion who had been slightly more than that—Dalton had occasionally been good for a conversation, for example. But his life had been largely void of friendship.

Tim was becoming a friend, but Spike thought of him more as a younger brother—as family, someone to take care of.

Tara was an equal.

She didn’t stir as he went to check into their hotel room. She’d insisted they share, since it would save them both money. Spike had pointed out that he could easily pay for two rooms if she would feel more comfortable, but she had just laughed at him. “I think I can trust you to be a gentleman, Spike.”

He loved hearing her laugh.

“Tara-luv, we’re here,” he called softly as he parked in front of their room. When she didn’t stir, Spike tried again, shaking her with a gentle hand. “Tara, we’re here. You have to wake up, luv, unless you want me to carry you in.”

She stirred sleepily. “I’m too heavy.”

“Not hardly. Not for me, pet. Come on, I’ll grab your bag.” He was as good as his word, grabbing both their bags from the trunk and opening the door before handing her a key-card. “Apparently, they’ve got a hot tub,” Spike told her with a smile. “Good thing we decided to stay over an extra night, huh?”

Tara shook her head. “I don’t have a swimming suit, Spike.”

“So?” he replied. “We’ll wait till everyone’s gone an’ just go with what we’ve got.”

“I’m not going skinny-dipping in a public place!” Tara protested. “You don’t know who might see us.”

Spike’s grin widened. “An’ that’s most of the fun. ‘s an adrenalin rush wonderin’ if you goin’ to get caught.”

Tara’s eyes narrowed. “Vampires don’t have a working endocrine system,” she pointed out. “Ergo, no adrenalin.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t get excited,” Spike replied.

She stared at him a moment before bursting into laughter, her sleepiness dissipating. “You’re insane!”

“Been accused of that before,” he admitted. “Come on now. You have to admit the idea has a certain appeal.”

It did. That was the scary part. Spike seemed to bring out the worst—best?—in her, daring her to take chances Tara had long thought never to take again. He never truly encouraged irresponsibility, but he did have a knack for inciting a little harmless mayhem.

Spike, in fact, seemed to encourage those around him to live life to the fullest. From what little she knew about Tim’s past, Tara suspected that it would have been all too easy for the boy to surrender to death. Instead, Spike saved him.

“Not tonight,” Tara finally said. “But I’ll see what I can find tomorrow. Sitting in a hot tub sounds like fun.” She frowned. “Aren’t we going to have trouble, though? Getting you back home without getting too badly singed?”

“Tint on the windows is dark enough,” Spike assured her. “It’s actually illegal, but as long as I don’t give the cops too good a reason to pull me over it’s fine. That, an’ I’m plannin’ on checkin’ out before first light.”

Tara made a face. She wasn’t completely averse to mornings, but that was a little too early for her. “Ugh. Well, if we must, we must.”

“’fraid so, pet. Look at it this way though,” he suggested. “If we stay up all night, it’ll just be really late, an’ not early. And you can sleep on the way.”

“I could help drive, you know,” Tara pointed out.

“My Mustang?” Spike replied with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t think so. You goin’ to sleep now, pet?”

He kept calling her that, Tara noticed. He called her by her name as well, but Spike always seemed to be using a nickname or endearment for people. Somehow, she didn’t mind as she might have with someone else. “Yeah.” Her words were punctuated with a yawn. “I think so.”

Spike allowed Tara to use the bathroom first, flipping through the channels on the TV until she climbed between the sheets. He’d taken the bed closest to the door, and Tara wondered if there was a specific reason, or if he just liked that one better for some reason.

The darkness seemed to fill up the room once all the lights were off—fill it up and yet comfort her. Spike made no sound, but it was easy to remember that he was only a few feet away from her. It seemed like the next best thing to sharing a bed.

That was what Tara missed the most. She missed sharing a bed with someone, cuddling with them, holding and being held. The space next to her felt all the more empty for having once been filled.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about yourself.”

There was a faint chuckle from his direction. Tara wasn’t certain she’d even be able to see her hand in front of her face with curtains tightly drawn to prevent any stray sunbeams—and incidentally street lights. “You know everythin’ there is to know.”

“I don’t know anything about you before you were turned.”

Tara felt the silence that followed. Spike, for his part, was stunned. No one had ever asked about that. Dawn had asked a few questions the summer Buffy had been gone, but she’d wanted him to tell her stories of her mom and her sister over and over again. Spike had dredged up every memory he had of every meeting between himself and the Slayer—and Joyce. Tim, after the first few tentative questions, had stopped asking. Spike simply hadn’t told him anything at all.

Oddly enough, Spike thought Tara might understand. “Nothin’ much to tell.” More quiet laughter, but this time with a bitter quality. “I was a gentleman, born an’ bred. My father died when I was young, an’ my mum was the one that raised me mostly. An’ then she got sick.”

“What happened?”

It was easier to speak the words into the air, to know that Tara was close by but not to be able to see her. If he tried, he could make her out, but Spike didn’t want to try. “There was a party,” he said quietly. “The girl I loved was there, an’ I was workin’ on a poem about her.” He waited for her laughter, but it never came. “Some gits read it out loud, an’ she figured it out. Was pretty obvious I had it bad for her. She asked me, an’ I told her, an’ then she told me to get lost.”

Spike couldn’t even bear repeat her words, although they were burned on his memory. “Met Dru in an alley after I ran out in tears. Told you I was really a poncy git.”

The raw pain in his voice was a century old, Tara realized. She had no doubt that it had followed him for every one of the years he’d been alive—so to speak. It was no wonder that Buffy had nearly driven him crazy, and the witch had to wonder how much the Slayer knew. “You’re not a ‘poncy git,’ Spike, whatever that means. Did Buffy know any of this?”

“No.” The word was cut short, hurt sharpening its edges. “She asked ‘bout the Slayers I killed, but I spun her some story I’d worked up. Went better with the image.”

Tara found herself oddly gratified that she was the only one who knew this story. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Didn’t think it would matter to you.”

“It does,” she replied softly into the darkness. “But not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

~~~~~

Tim found himself grateful for Luz’s company in the shop the next day. They stayed fairly busy, but during the slow times he found himself incredibly bored. He’d re-read all the books he normally carried around with him, which meant he’d need to find the Sunnydale library pretty soon, or a good used bookstore.

There were, of course, all the magic books, but they held no interest for him.

When Dawn walked in, he looked up in surprise and pleasure. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much,” Dawn replied, looking around. The place was looking good. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop in.”

“You still gonna be able to make it tonight?” Tim asked, trying not to sound to eager.

Dawn was torn. She wanted to go; she knew that it would probably be a better option than the one she was considering, but the frat party would allow her a chance to let off some steam. Midterms were coming up in a day or two, and Dawn was beginning to feel the pressure.

“I don’t know, Tim,” she replied. “I should probably study.” She caught the way his face fell slightly, and Dawn realized that he was beginning to have more than friendly feelings for her. “But maybe we could just hang out today,” she suggested. “I’ve got some homework with me, but—”

“That would be cool,” Tim said immediately. “I mean, if you want to, and if you won’t be too distracted.”

The guilt deepened. She hated lying. Dawn was good at it, but she still hated it. Sometimes, she just couldn’t seem to help herself. “No,” she said quickly. “I used to study here all the time back when—” she faltered slightly. “It was my favorite spot.”

“Great,” he replied. “That’s—great.”

Dawn tried to remind herself that it wouldn’t do any good to get attached. Sooner or later Spike would leave, and then Tim would go with him. So she was doing both of them a favor.


	12. Chapter 12

**“There is an alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmuted into wisdom, which, if it does not bring joy, can yet bring happiness.” ~Pearl Buck**

They hadn’t talked about it, but Tara knew Spike’s errand was more than a little dangerous. If his duplicity was discovered before he was safely away, the vampire would have a rather nasty fight on his hands. While Tara was certain that Spike could take care of himself, that didn’t prevent her from worrying about him.

She had been rather impressed at the fake crystal he’d created. When the two were set side by side, there was no discernable difference. The replica even had the same aura of dark magics, created by the spell Spike had wrought. So really, Spike had a good chance of success. There was no reason to be concerned.

Except that she’d been expecting him for over an hour now.

Tara sighed as she sat, her stomach clenching with hunger. She ought to just go get something to eat. Spike had mentioned going out once he returned, but it was getting late, and she was starving.

Just as she’d made her decision to head out, she heard the click of the lock and Spike stuck his head through the door. “Hungry, luv?”

“Starving,” Tara replied. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago.”

He shrugged. “The negotiations took a bit longer than I thought.” He entered the room fully then, revealing two bags of food. “Got a bit of everything nearly,” Spike explained. “Wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Anything right now,” Tara said, grabbing one of the bags and pulling out little cardboard boxes. She was amazed at the variety Spike had gotten—several different entrees and appetizers with a range from vegetarian to beef. “I take it you didn’t have any trouble selling the crystal.”

“Bit of dickering over the price, but no,” Spike said through a mouthful of pot sticker and chili sauce. One might be able to call the glint in his eyes evil. “When the wanker tries to use it for the spell, it’ll probably blow up on him, so I won’t even have to worry ‘bout him comin’ after me.”

She shook her head. “I suppose that’s one way to do it.” Tara had never really thought of Spike as someone who would hunt demons on his own. He had always been Buffy’s shadow or reluctant ally. This was a different Spike, however, as he kept reminding her constantly.

“You gonna soak in the hot tub with me tonight?”

Tara sighed. “I bought a swim suit today, so yes.” She gave him a smug little smile. “I also got one for you.”

“There was no need for that,” Spike protested, but she caught the pleased look on his face. It took so little to touch him. Things she would do for a friend as a matter of course seemed to shock him. He gave her a suspicious look. “’s not one of those Hawaiian numbers, is it? ‘cause I’m not wearin’ it if it is.”

“It’s navy blue.” Tara grinned at him. “I thought about orange, but I didn’t really want to find out if you’d go skinny dipping.”

“Good thing, because you would have,” he replied. “We’ll finish up here an’ go in. Should be nice.”

Tara wasn’t sure how excited she was about it. The hot tub sounded nice, but it required a swimming suit, and she hadn’t been in one of those since she’d dated Willow, the summer before Glory. “Should be.”

~~~~~

Tim was as relaxed as he ever was. The party seemed to be going well. About half a dozen people had shown up, including Ryan, Meredith, and her boyfriend, Curtis. A dozen pizza boxes lay scattered around and the soda was flowing freely. A couple people had brought six packs of beer, but it wasn’t enough for anybody to get drunk, although a few were looking a little buzzed. Two guys were playing _Halo 3_, while another watched.

Meredith was feeding Luz bits of pepperoni and sausage from her pizza, and Tim was just hoping that the dog didn’t eat enough of the greasy meat to make herself sick. The girl glanced up at him guiltily. “Is this okay?” she asked. “I didn’t even ask you if you fed Luz scraps or not.”

Tim shrugged. “No, it’s fine.” He gave her a fond look. “She’ll eat just about anything.”

“Where’d you get her?” Curtis asked, looking on with interest. “She’s one great dog.”

“In an alley,” he replied, wondering how far he wanted to go with this story. Tim did have an edited version that he’d practiced. It wasn’t an outright lie, but it avoided the more graphic details. “I guess it was about a year after I started living with Spike when I found her. She was just this filthy, fuzzy puppy. Somebody abandoned her, I guess. I brought her home and convinced Spike we needed to keep her.”

The four of them were standing around in the kitchen while everyone else played or watched the game in the living room. “How’d you wind up with Spike?” Ryan asked.

“Fluke, mainly,” Tim said quietly. “I wasn’t seeing eye to eye with my folks and he gave me a place to crash. When things didn’t get better, they pretty much let him have custody.”

“Sounds like my parents,” Curtis said. “They couldn’t wait to get me out of the house.”

Meredith shrugged. “My folks are okay. We don’t always get along, but they’re cool.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Every one of them had a story, some more painful than others. Ryan changed the subject. “So why didn’t you invite Dawn tonight, Tim?”

Tim looked surprised. “I did. She said she had some studying to do. Why?” The other three at the table exchanged looks. “What?” Tim asked more insistently.

“We saw her going into one of the frat houses on our way over here,” Meredith said. “Curtis lives on campus, so…” She trailed off.

Ryan grimaced. “Look, man, I wouldn’t have even said anything, but I thought you and her were together. I thought—”

“She was hanging all over some other guy,” Curtis supplied. “We wondered if you two broke it off or something.”

Tim frowned. “No, we aren’t together, but—Are you sure it was Dawn? It could have been somebody else, right?”

“It was Dawn, Tim,” Meredith said quietly. “I’m sure of it. I’ve had a couple classes with her. That’s one of the reasons I was surprised she was at the party last week.”

Tim swallowed hard, his eyes going to the white scar on the inside of his forearm. They weren’t dating, and he’d had no illusions about that even being a possibility. He’d thought they were friends, however, and friends didn’t lie about stuff like that. “So she blew me off then.”

“Sorry, Tim,” Curtis said softly. “That sucks.”

He shook his head. “I guess my first impression was right.”

~~~~~

Tara had never been thin. She’d never been dissatisfied with her figure—nor had she been particularly fond of it. Her body had simply been her body. There was so much more to a person than physical form that Tara had always viewed it merely as wrapping. Some wrapping was nicer than others, of course, but it wasn’t all that important.

Not that she wasn’t physically attracted to different people. Tara had thought Willow beautiful, and there had been others she had met whose physical beauty caused her to do a double-take. But Tara understood that it was what lay underneath that counted.

Perhaps her way of viewing things had been informed by her own development. She’d been big boned as a child, developing early. By the time she was twelve, her breasts had been larger than most girls’ her age, pendulous and heavy. Tara had gone from a girl to a woman in one summer, at least physically.

It had been her brother who paid the most attention.

When she was thirteen, Tara had reached her full height, and she had been voluptuous—Rubenesque, some might have said. Donny had been the first to touch her.

He’d never completed his assault. Her father had come upon them as her brother had one hand shoved under her shirt, one hand down her pants. Donny had received a scolding for touching her in such a way.

Tara had gotten her father’s belt for enticing him.

So she knew that bodies meant little, even though they could bring pain and possibly unwanted attention. Tara had, after all, spent six years making certain her brother could not complete his assault. That did not explain why she felt self-conscious standing in front of Spike in her bathing suit—a simple one piece that had seemed to flatter her curves in the store.

Spike, however, was all chiseled muscle, white skin pulled taut. He looked like some carved marble statue, and although it had been a _very_ long time since Tara had felt any sort of attraction to a man, she felt something now. Something that was just a little more than simple admiration of his form.

Her self-consciousness vanished at his frankly appreciative gaze. “You look like a bloody recreation of Venus.” When Tara flushed, Spike started apologizing. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Glinda. I don’t—”

“No, it’s okay,” she replied. There was a warmth in her belly that came from being admired—whether the eyes were male or female didn’t really matter. She smiled at him—the smile of a woman who knows her own beauty.

The hours for the pool were already over by the time they got there, but Tara followed Spike inside the iron gates anyway. Sometimes it felt good to break the rules.

She watched Spike settle into the hot tub with a sigh of contentment and quickly followed his example. “I didn’t know you liked this sort of thing.”

“What’s not to like?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Hot water, bubbles, attractive female…” The leer was in jest, and she took it as such. “Haven’t been able to do this in a good long while.”

Tara let out a long breath, letting the heat relax her. “Can I ask you a question?”

Spike laughed. “Is this another one about before I was turned?”

“No, it’s one about why you haven’t dated since Buffy,” Tara replied.

He shook his head. “You don’t pull your punches do you?” When Tara looked ready to apologize, he waved her off. “No, ‘s alright. I’ll let you know when ‘m not goin’ to answer.” There was a long pause, during which time Tara was very nearly certain Spike wasn’t going to respond. “This is goin’ to sound cliché, but I just never met the right person,” he finally said. “Could ask you the same about Willow.” Spike gave her a serious look. “Birds should be knockin’ down your door.”

“I loved Willow like you loved Buffy, Spike,” Tara replied simply. “It’s hard to find someone who can compare. And I don’t trust easily anymore.”

Spike opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again.

“Go ahead and ask.”

“But you trust me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Even knowin’ what I did.”

“Even then.” Tara moved her hand through the water, the ripples she created invisible against the current created with the bubbles. “I don’t know, Spike. I guess you just strike me as a trustworthy guy.”

“Demon.”

“Man.” Her tone was almost sharp. “You shouldn’t put yourself down like that.”

“’s what I am, luv,” Spike said simply. “’ve been a vampire for a long time now, so I should know.”

“But you’re so much more!” Tara blurted out. “You’re—”

“What?”

She was silent. Spike was more than just a demon, but he was right. There was a demon that lived within him. Tara had to wonder if it was his self-deprecation that led him to say what he did, or her refusal to accept him as he was that caused her to deny it. If that was the case, she needed to rethink things. “You’re my friend. Demon, man, it doesn’t matter.”

Spike was surprised to realize that Tara meant it. The fact that he was a vampire meant nothing more to her than he could not go out into the sunlight and he drank blood on occasion. Like Tim, she accepted him for all that he was. “Ta, luv.”

He watched her through the steam that drifted up from the surface of the water as she lay her head back against the side and closed her eyes. Spike didn’t think he’d ever felt for another woman what he felt for Tara. He wanted her, of course; he was certainly attracted to her physically. But she was out of his reach—and through no fault of his. It wasn’t that he was somehow beneath her. Men just weren’t her style.

It was love, he knew. Not the all-consuming passion he had felt for Buffy, but a more gentle feeling. She was his friend first, and it was that thought that led Spike to reach out and touch Tara’s hand where it floated in the water.

Her eyes fluttered open and for a moment, Spike thought perhaps he had crossed some line. Instead, she simply moved her hand so that their fingers could intertwine.

Spike had never known simply holding someone’s hand could bring so much satisfaction.

“Are you glad you came back to Sunnydale, Spike?”

He smiled, his expression enigmatic. “Yeah, Tara. This time I am.”

~~~~~

Tim heard Spike enter the apartment moments before daybreak. Sleep had been elusive, and he kept wondering if this was the way things would always be. If he’d always fall in love with girls who wouldn’t love him. Who wouldn’t even like him.

He watched listlessly as Luz sprang up from her spot on the floor, nudging the door to his room open so she could greet the vampire. There were soft whines of greeting, and then Spike pushed the door open to look at him. “You awake already?”

“More like still,” Tim said wryly, and Spike caught the note of pain in his voice that had been absent for a while.

There was a long pause, and then Spike asked, “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Spike sighed. “’m goin’ to make some coffee. You getting up now or are you goin’ to try and sleep?”

“I’ll get up.” Tim pushed himself up, listening to the sounds of Spike and Luz in the kitchen. He stared at the scars that lined the inside of his arm. The colored ink was a different way to do it, Tim supposed. It still marked him, but it was less self-destructive and a lot prettier. He’d thought Dawn understood.

“You want to tell me about it?” Spike asked once he’d made his way to the kitchen.

Tim shrugged. “Nothing happened, Spike. I had a party here last night, that’s all.”

Spike looked around the apartment, noting the lack of destruction. “’m guessin’ either the party was a huge success, or it was a total failure.”

“Success,” Tim replied, his fingers going to the star on his arm.

Spike frowned. “Tim, tell me. You’re getting me worried now.”

“I invited Dawn, and she didn’t show.”

Spike blinked, realizing what was going on. “Tim, I’m sorry. Dawn is—”

“A liar,” Tim said flatly. “She said she was going to come, and then she told me she had to study for midterms. Meredith and Curtis saw her going to a frat party hanging all over a guy.” He looked up at Spike. “She lied to me.”

Spike hissed in a breath. He really did understand how Tim was feeling, having been through something similar with Dawn’s older sister. “Yeah, looks like she did.”

“Is it always going to be this way?” Tim demanded. “I—she’s the only one I’ve ever told about the cutting, you know, and she just blew me off like that. How would she react if I—How could I tell any girl about that?”

Spike didn’t have an answer for him. His own love life was not one he could draw comparisons from. Or rather it was, but they were not hopeful. His track record with women seemed to indicate a dismal future.

Except for Tara, but she was just a friend.

“I don’t know, lad,” Spike finally said. “I’d say you just haven’t met the right girl yet, but—well, I haven’t either. That’s prob’ly not what you wanted to hear.”

Tim was blinking rapidly, and Spike could see he was on the verge of tears. His undead heart broke for the boy. Tim didn’t need this, and his past made him especially vulnerable to slights of this sort. Dawn probably had meant to spare his feelings by lying, but if there was one thing Tim couldn’t handle, it was being lied to.

It was one of the reasons Spike had probably done so well by Tim. He was always brutally honest when it came to relationships.

“This is goin’ to sound stupid, but give it some time,” Spike said quietly. “We’ve only just got here, and if we need to go somewhere else—”

Tim could hear the pain in his voice and knew that it was from the thought of leaving Sunnydale—and Tara. Spike would pack up and move again for him. That said something. “No,” Tim said quietly. “I mean, Tara’s here, and I’m starting to meet people and all. It’ll be fine.”

Spike only hoped he was right. He had no desire to pick up the shattered pieces of Tim’s heart once again. It hurt both of them too damn badly.


	13. Chapter 13

**“Scars are stories, history written on the body.” ~Kathryn Harrison**

Dawn looked up into Tim’s face as the door swung open. She was about to give him a cheery greeting when he turned and stalked off back into the apartment, leaving the door open behind him. “Hey, Tim,” she said, her voice uncertain.

“What do you want?”

His voice hadn’t been that cold towards her in a while, and Dawn faltered slightly. “I was just coming over to say hi. I know I missed the party, but midterms were all this last week, and I thought—“

“Spare me,” Tim bit out. “You lied to me, Dawn.”

She couldn’t stop the warmth from creeping into her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had to study.”

“Meredith and her boyfriend saw you going into one of the frat houses on campus,” Tim accused. “You lied to me.”

Dawn immediately went on the defensive. “No, Tim! It just came up last minute. I was going to study, but—”

“You could have told me the truth!” he said, as though she hadn’t said anything. “I might have been disappointed you couldn’t make it, but I would have understood. I thought we were friends.”

It was the raw pain in his voice that stopped her from trying to explain. “We are.”

“Then why did you lie, Dawn?” Tim demanded.

Dawn blinked, taking a step back. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Newsflash, princess, you did,” Tim shot back. “I was honest with you. I told you things I hadn’t told anybody else, and not only did you blow me off, but you lied about it. I don’t operate that way.”

“Tim, wait,” Dawn said as he started to turn away.

He turned to face her, his yellow-green eyes blazing. “No. You screwed up, Dawn. I don’t really want to see you again.”

Dawn watched his bedroom door slam behind him, wincing at the sound. She hadn’t expected him to find out, and hadn’t thought he would take it that badly even if he did. A sound caused her to turn, and she saw Spike standing in the entrance, disappointment written all over his face. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” he replied, coming in and shutting the door behind him.

Dawn wanted desperately to make him understand. “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, Spike. I thought—”

“I know,” Spike said softly. “You didn’t want him to think you were ditching him.”

“I wasn’t ditching him!” she protested. “It was just—”

“You had a better opportunity,” Spike stated flatly. “We both get that, Dawn, but Tim was right. You lied to him. That was not well done.”

Dawn’s head jerked back as though she’d been slapped. “Spike—”

“You’re not the only one who’s hurting these days, Bit,” the vampire stated. “What you do, the choices you make, they affect the people around you. Tim is a strong kid, but he’s been hurt in the past, and I won’t have you making things worse for him.”

Dawn’s lower lip trembled, but Spike refused to be moved. The girl had been playing fast and loose lately, wallowing in her own pain. It was time for her to realize that the universe didn’t revolve around her. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t,” Spike said. “That doesn’t change the fact that you did. I told you I’d be here for you, Dawn, and I meant that. If you need me, I’ll do what I can for you, luv, but I won’t stand around an’ watch you destroy your own life an’ take others down with you.”

Dawn took a step back. “That’s not fair, Spike.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “Your choices aren’t just hurting you anymore, Dawn.”

She felt an almost physical pain in her chest, knowing that he was right—knowing that she had hurt Tim and hating herself for it. Hating herself for doing all the things she knew she ought not to be doing. Seeing the disappointment in Spike’s face reminded her that there were others who would have been just as disappointed in her behavior.

Dawn wasn’t ready to face that yet.

“You can’t tell me what to do or how to live my life!” Dawn shouted back. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in my shoes.”

“Maybe not,” Spike said, his face grim as he pulled the last of his ammunition out, hoping to reach her. “I do know that your mum an’ your sister would be pretty disappointed in you right now. I think you know that too.”

Dawn didn’t have a reply to that. Instead she rushed out the door, slamming it behind her. Spike slumped against the wall. Way back when, Spike had used the truth as a weapon against the Slayer, wanting to cut her deeply. Now he tried to use the truth to heal, to do the right thing. He’d wanted to turn Dawn away from this deeply destructive path she was treading.

In the end, he thought that he might have chased her away for good.

~~~~~

Spike found that he needed to see Tara, needed to relax in the serenity her presence offered. He needed an adult’s perspective. When she let him in, her face immediately creased in concern. “What happened?”

Briefly, the vampire described the confrontation between Tim and Dawn and then what he’d said to her. “You don’t think I was bein’ too harsh, do you?”

Tara sighed. “You were a little harsh, Spike, but it’s nothing I haven’t wanted to say to her. Dawn needs to realize that she isn’t the only person in the world.”

Spike shook his head. “I didn’t know what else to say to make her understand. How was Tim today?”

“Quiet,” Tara replied. “I thought perhaps something had happened, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I wasn’t sure if I should push or not.”

“Hard to say with Tim,” Spike said with a grimace. “Sometimes you push an’ he leaves. Other times he’ll start talkin’ your ear off.”

“I can keep an eye on him if you think it’s necessary.” Tara touched his arm gently. “Just let me know.”

“Ta, luv,” Spike replied, finding himself leaning just a little closer. “I wanted to—” He stopped, not knowing how to say it. “Did you, uh, have fun? In L.A.?”

Tara frowned slightly, sensing his change in direction and wondering what had brought it on. “I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to get out of town like that.”

Spike laughed nervously, feeling again the strange attraction that he was trying hard not to put a name to. Falling in love with a woman who didn’t like men would be about his luck, however. It wasn’t like he was ever smart about who he fell for. “Yeah, me too. It’s been a while since I’ve had some, you know, adult company.”

If she didn’t know better, Tara would have said that Spike was nervous. “It was nice.” She tightened her grip on his arm; she hadn’t yet thought to pull away. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Spike shook his head jerkily. “No, I just—wanted to let you know ‘bout Dawn and Tim. That’s all.”

He turned to go. Tara wanted to do something, say something—to touch him. She told herself that it wasn’t about physical attraction. It was more that they seemed connected on some deep level. Already Tara couldn’t imagine life in Sunnydale without Spike. “Spike—” When he turned to face her again, all she could manage was a brief caress, her hand against his cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”

Spike caught her hand where it rested on his cheek and squeezed briefly. “Will do, luv.”

And then he was gone.

~~~~~

_The withdrawal symptoms were bad. Spike had never thought to be playing nursemaid to a human, let alone a young street kid. There had been one or two fantasies where the Slayer allowed him to take care of her, but that’s all they had been—fantasies._

He’d been kept busy keeping Tim company for the first few days he was there, making sure he got through the shakes and vomiting. Thankfully Tim hadn’t been on anything that could kill him from sudden withdrawal. At night, there were the screams from night terrors, and Spike was grateful that he lived in an area where people didn’t pay a lot of attention to things like that.

After a week had passed, Spike decided he could risk leaving Tim alone for long enough to get some business done. Feeding a human cost a little more than buying blood. The kid’s injuries were healing nicely, and although Spike didn’t ask a lot of questions, it was mostly because he already knew the answers.

Besides, he really wasn’t sure if Tim would respond well to inquiries.

They soon fell into an uneasy routine. Spike really had no idea how to treat the boy, who reminded him of a whipped puppy most days. He did for Tim what he’d done for Dawn—made sure the boy ate, took care of him when he had his nightmares, made sure he went to school and got his homework done.

All the while, Tim seemed almost pathetically grateful for the attention—and scared to death that Spike would suddenly change his mind about him staying. A terror that had subsided only slightly after Spike refused Tim’s offer of payment. It had made him soul-sick to realize that the boy thought of himself of value only when he was dispensing sexual favors.

He had smelled the blood immediately after coming into the apartment about a month after he’d brought Tim home from the alley. It was thick and rich, and the scent made his mouth water. Spike found the boy in the bathroom, passed out, the deep laceration on his arm still oozing. The razorblade was still in his left hand.

For a minute, Spike was certain all his hard work had come to naught, that Tim had decided to end his own life. Then he saw the other scars on Tim’s arms—scars that suddenly had a context. It wasn’t death the boy was after.

Working quickly, Spike had bound up the wound, considering and discarding the idea of going to the hospital. Things were settled right now, but neither one of them needed the authorities getting over-involved. Tim had lost quite a bit of blood, but Spike was an expert on such matters, and he knew Tim would recover without requiring a transfusion.

Spike cleaned him up and put him to bed, and then he fought his hunger as he cleaned up the bathroom. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that wondered what it would be like if Tim allowed him to drink from him.

He rejected the idea in the next moment, but the desire still lingered. It was controllable, but being around that much human blood was difficult.

When Tim woke up, Spike knew he’d have to make the boy see reason. He’d have to show him the truth, show him that bleeding that much around a vampire wasn’t smart.

And maybe he’d ask the questions he hadn’t wanted to ask.

~~~~~

Tim ran the dull edge of the razor along the inside of his arm, tracing the outline of the star. He hadn’t cut in a long time—hadn’t felt the need to. Today the desire was back, strong as before, and he sat in the bathroom trying to stifle the urge.

It would be better if he used a tack or a nail. There wouldn’t be as much damage then, and Tim would have half a chance at hiding the injury from Spike. The risk of cutting too deeply with the razor was great; Tim had gotten carried away before.

He’d started cutting when he was thirteen, when the pain was so bad he thought he’d fly apart. There was something inside him that wanted the whole world to see the scars he already bore on the inside. So he’d put them on the outside.

After Tim had been with Spike for a while, things hadn’t seemed so bad; the pain had subsided to something bearable once he’d understood that the vampire wasn’t going to abandon him. And when he had gotten his first tattoo, Tim realized that there was another way to mark his body, something that was a little less self-destructive. Another way to wear the pain.

Now Tim felt as though he was going to come apart again. The pain shouldn’t have been that bad; he’d only just met Dawn after all. But her rejection had touched on old wounds that were yet raw, and Tim felt it again. Felt what it had been like to be left by all those who were supposed to love him. To be rejected by those who were supposed to care for him.

He couldn’t deal with it, and he hated that fact.

“Tim? What—”

Tim glanced up guiltily to see Spike standing in the door. He hadn’t even heard the vampire come in. There was no disappointment on Spike’s face—only a pained knowledge. With a gentle hand, Spike took the razorblade from him. “Let’s get out of here for a while.”

Tim looked down at his empty hands. “Spike, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

“’s alright, lad,” Spike said softly. “Think I understand better than you know. Come on, now. Better to get out of here for a while.”

Tim followed Spike, because that was all he knew to do. He didn’t want to start cutting again. Once he started down that road, he knew how hard it would be to stop. He half-heard Spike ordering Luz to stay behind and the dog’s responding whine. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

They walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. When Spike finally stopped and Tim looked up, he blinked in surprise. “This is a tattoo shop.”

“Yeah, thought you might need it,” Spike replied, nonchalant. Though he often wished it could be different, Spike did understand Tim’s need for physical pain. It was often easier to deal with than the emotional pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

Tim shook his head. “Spike, I—”

“My treat, lad,” Spike said. “You do what you need to do.”

It felt as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, to know that Spike really did understand at a certain level. “Thanks.”

~~~~~

Dawn was furious—at Spike, at Tim, at herself. Knowing that Tara had probably already heard the story, she had refused to return the older woman’s phone calls or go by the Magic Box. Dawn felt hard used. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to hurt Tim’s feelings, or that she’d been trying to be mean. Besides, they didn’t understand what she was going through. How could they?

She didn’t need them, Dawn decided. She was just fine on her own, doing her own thing. Dawn _was_ on her own, after all. She wasn’t relying on anybody for help.

It didn’t help that Dawn received word that she was flunking three out of four of her classes. Not studying for midterms was coming back to bite her in the ass, and there didn’t seem to be any way for her to make it up. If she failed she would lose scholarships, however, and she had no way to pay for school otherwise. It wasn’t as though her dad was going to be any help at all.

She wanted to bury her head in the sand and hope things worked out. Dawn didn’t feel like she could do anything proactive—she felt stuck, as though she’d dug a hole so deep there was no chance she’d ever make it out.

Dawn didn’t want to deal with feeling hopeless.

So, when Alan asked her to go with him to the frat party, Dawn didn’t say no, even though she knew she probably should. He was too grabby—he was pushing her too hard to get physical with him. He made her uncomfortable with his insistence, but Dawn ignored her instincts, wanting just to forget for a while.

Her last thoughts before she blacked out were of regret, which wasn’t foreign to her. It seemed all Dawn had these days were regrets.


	14. Chapter 14

**“If you have made mistakes, even serious ones, there is always another chance for you. What we call failure is not the falling down, but the staying down.” ~Mary Pickford**

Robbie stepped back and looked at his handiwork. “What do you think, man?”

Tim stared at the fresh tattoo that now adorned the left side of his chest—a bleeding heart wrapped in thorns with one piercing through. “I like it.” He turned his head slightly to look at Spike, who was standing behind him. There were definitely pluses to living in a town like Sunnydale. Robbie hadn’t even blinked at Spike’s lack of a reflection.

At least not after he’d figured out that the vampire wasn’t planning on killing him.

“Looks good,” Spike said quietly, knowing exactly why Tim had chosen the tattoo that he did. The boy wasn’t the only one who felt like his heart was being pierced at times.

Tim nodded, turning back towards the mirror. “It’s good work,” he agreed. “Thanks, Robbie.”

“Anytime,” Robbie replied. “You need any work done while you’re in town, just let me know.

Tim grabbed his shirt, pausing a moment as he looked into the mirror. The mandala on his stomach was one of his own design. That one had taken several trips and a lot of hours. It was a meditation piece that he loved; it was also a tongue in cheek comment on philosophers that Spike often made derisive comments about, but that he enjoyed reading. Tim had said that he’d experienced enough of life so he could contemplate his belly button if he wanted.

The star on his forearm was the first tattoo he’d gotten. Tim hadn’t decided what else to put on that arm yet. The other arm was covered in a full sleeve—a tree moving from one season to the next as it traveled up his arm, beginning in autumn and ending in the full leaf of summer.

There was a Japanese-style tiger across his left shoulder blade, and a full-color dragon up his right leg, both done by the same artist in New York. And Tim wasn’t finished yet.

Tim yanked his shirt over his head, remembering when he’d gotten his first tattoo. At the time, he’d just thought it would be cool. It was his graduation present to himself. It wasn’t until the needle hit skin that Tim had realized what the inking process could do for him.

It was a way to mark his body, to leave a record of his pain along with his triumphs. Tim received the same release through tattooing himself that he had through cutting.

It was also a way to claim membership—to show that he was separate from the larger society before anyone could figure it out and exclude him. It was a way to pull beauty from pain.

“Ready?” Spike raised an eyebrow.

“Sure thing.”

They left the shop in silence, neither quite ready to discuss what Spike had walked in on. Tim had often half-wondered what it would be like to have the vampire feed from him—if he would get the same pain-pleasure that he did from cutting. Tim knew, however, that to ask would be to risk changing their entire relationship, and not for the better.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Spike finally asked as they walked.

Tim sighed. “It—it all came back. Remembering, you know.”

Spike knew, knew how memory could lie in wait. How it could be triggered by something so minor as a familiar scent on a faint breeze and then you would be drowning in the past. “You doin’ okay now?”

“I’m okay,” Tim replied. “Spike—thanks. For going with me and everything. I didn’t think…”

Spike sighed. “I don’t hate them. I know what they mean to you, what they’re for. If it helps you, I’m alright with the tattoos. I just wish you’d told me you were feelin’ that bad.”

“It just hit me out of the blue when I got back to the apartment,” Tim admitted. “It wasn’t just Dawn, it was everything. It was like I was feeling everything again.”

“That’s goin’ to happen, Tim,” Spike said. “It was a part of your life.” He’d never said much about it before, but Spike thought the time might be right. “What I was—what I did—to Buffy an’ to others, before I got the soul, that’s all real. There are moments when I just want to give up, when I don’t want this anymore. There are days when I wish I could carve the soul out of my chest.”

Tim had known none of this. He had always thought of Spike as immovable, so strong as to fear nothing, to not feel pain. Tim had never thought that Spike might understand his pain because he experienced his own, and not just because the vampire had seen him through the worst of it.

It helped to know he wasn’t the only one who was sometimes overwhelmed.

“You ever regret getting the soul?” Tim finally asked. “I mean, if it hurts so much…”

Spike sighed. “Dunno,” he confessed. “There are days when it would be easier if I didn’t have it. Then again, havin’ the soul means ‘m not fightin’ myself so much. Prob’ly doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“No, I guess it does,” Tim said. “Sort of like you can make your own image now that you’re not, I don’t know, just a vampire.” He shrugged. “That probably came out wrong.”

Spike didn’t think that it had. It was rather close to the truth. The soul made it easier for him to not rely upon a label for direction. He could no longer claim to be evil—and he no longer wanted to. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d gone completely soft. “That’s about right,” he said softly. “You’re not in this alone, lad. Not anymore.”

Neither of them were.

~~~~~

When Dawn woke up, she found herself in unfamiliar surroundings, in a strange bed, and her clothes were disarrayed. She also remembered nothing of what had occurred the night before, except that she had gone with Alan to the party he’d invited her to.

Well, she’d had a little too much to drink. That was obvious.

It was when Dawn rose and felt the stickiness between her thighs that she realized what had most likely happened. And she didn’t remember any of it.

There are moments in life when what we have become seems to hit us in the face. Moments when a person realizes exactly what they have made out of their life, what damage they have wrought. When they wake up and realize what’s important—and that they’ve thrown it all away.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Dawn had been drunk in Tim’s presence, and he had been nothing but a gentleman. Maybe she was simply ready to face the fact that she had made a mess of things. Whatever it was, Dawn felt the tears threatening—tears she hadn’t shed since her sister’s funeral, months before.

She took a deep breath, knowing that she probably looked like a complete mess, and not really wanting anyone to see her if she was still in the frat house like she thought.

The party the night before had been big enough—and Dawn had woken early enough—so that she only saw a couple guys on the way out the door. The looks they gave her and one another caused her to feel used and dirty. They probably knew more about what her night had been like than she did, and that was frightening.

Dawn hurried across campus towards her apartment. Thankfully it was only about a block or so away. There were a few early morning joggers out, but few others. Even so, she felt as though she had a big sign painted on her chest, like everyone knew she was a slut.

Buffy and her mom had always told her that sex and love went together. Even though Buffy had never really talked about Spike after he’d left town, Dawn still remembered the look on her sister’s face when his name was mentioned. There had been something there, and Spike had definitely loved Buffy.

Dawn had never thought of herself as the kind of girl who just sleeps with anybody, whenever. She had certainly never thought she would have had sex without remembering it, without even knowing what she was doing.

She’d had a couple boyfriends, slept with a few guys, but there had always been mutual attraction if not affection. Sure she liked to flirt, and some guys might call her a cock-tease, but Dawn didn’t sleep around.

Dawn wasn’t sure who she’d slept with, or if she’d wanted it. Or if she’d been capable of consenting.

Or if someone had put something in her drink.

She made it back to her apartment finally, her head pounding. The emotions she’d been trying to outrun were catching up to her, and she felt the burn of tears again. Almost mindlessly she headed for the shower, wanting to wash the stink of alcohol and sex off her body.

Dawn scrubbed herself until her skin was red, with the water as hot as she could stand. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel clean again.

Although Dawn wouldn’t have minded a few more hours of sleep, she was too tense to drop off. Instead, she started going through her mail and the scattered papers she’d tossed on the coffee table. The mail was mostly bills, but the papers included the midterms she’d just taken. While Dawn had glanced at the grades, she hadn’t seen the notes that her professors had left. Notes that said she was risking failure in all her classes.

Everything she’d been trying to avoid hit her in the face, and she just couldn’t deal with it. In the end, there was only one person she felt she could go to.

~~~~~

Spike was just getting ready to get some sleep when the frantic knocking came at his door. He was shocked to see Dawn on the other side, tears streaming down her face, hair still wet from a shower. The sight of her so broken had him using her pet name as he hadn’t done since he’d returned to Sunnydale. “Niblet? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve screwed things up so bad, Spike,” she said, tears still falling. “Everything is so messed up. I don’t know what to do.” And then she threw herself into his arms.

Dawn hadn’t touched him up to that point. She had done nothing that indicated she wanted his help or support in any way. Spike had begun to think that they would never manage to rebuild their relationship, and now she was sobbing on his shoulder, shaking so badly he thought she might fly apart.

The commotion brought Tim out to the living room, and their eyes met above Dawn’s head. For a minute, Spike was certain that Tim would simply turn around and walk right back into his room. Instead, the boy called to Luz and headed into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a glass of water.

It was nearly all Spike could do just to get Dawn to sit down on the couch. She was still clinging to him as though she was afraid he would disappear if she lost contact. “Come on, luv,” he urged. “Drink.”

Dawn sipped at the glass, still barely under control. “I’m sorry, Spike,” she said, her voice hitching. “I just—you said I could come to you, and I didn’t know who else…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Want to tell me what happened?” Spike asked quietly. When Dawn glanced over at Tim nervously, the young man stood.

“I can go somewhere for a while,” he said. “Tara’s probably up by now.”

Dawn shook her head. “You don’t have to. I mean, I don’t want to kick you out of your house.”

Tim smiled and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I think you might be more comfortable if it’s just you and Spike. Give me a minute.”

Dawn nodded, watching him go back into his bedroom. He was out just a few seconds later, completely dressed, with Luz at his heels. “I’ll see you later, Spike,” he said, heading out the door.

When Dawn remained silent, Spike tried again. “What happened, Bit?”

The old name brought back memories that were not entirely welcome. “God, Spike, I’ve been so stupid.”

“I won’t tell you that you haven’t,” he replied, brushing a damp strand of hair out of her face. “But somehow I don’t think that’s what you need to hear.”

Dawn shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. “I went out last night with this guy. I knew I probably shouldn’t, and that he wasn’t a great guy, but I was so mad.”

“Dawn—”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him, hurrying on. “I know it’s not your fault. It’s just—I didn’t know what else to do, and I hated myself for lying. I wanted to get lost for a while.” She laughed bitterly. “Well, I got lost alright.”

Spike was beginning to get a picture of what had happened, and it wasn’t pretty. “What did he do to you?”

“I don’t know!” Dawn burst out. “That’s just it. I don’t remember anything. I just woke up in the frat house this morning, and I knew—” She couldn’t even say the words out loud, not to Spike. “I just knew what had happened, and I went home and found out I’m flunking all my classes. If I fail this semester, I’m going to lose my loans and my scholarships, Spike. I’ll have to drop out, and then I’m going to be working at the Doublemeat Palace, just like Buffy.”

Dawn’s voice was becoming hysterical. “I’ve screwed it all up,” she whispered. “If Mom or Buffy knew—” Dawn choked back another sob.

Spike, although a little surprised, was not shocked. He’d known that Dawn was playing with fire, but not that she would get burnt this badly. “It’s goin’ to be okay, Dawn,” he said quietly.

She shook her head, unwilling to be comforted. “How? I’m going to flunk out of college, and I just—I don’t even remember! I don’t remember anything!”

Spike held her as she began weeping again, feeling helpless. He had no idea what to say to her, what to do for her. He couldn’t help but think that Tara would have been the better person to comfort the girl, but Dawn had chosen to come to him.

His arms tightened around her. She had chosen him.

~~~~~

Tim was glad he’d chosen to shower the night before, as he’d wanted to get the excess ink off his skin and clean the new tattoo. Otherwise, he’d have been out of luck before going into work.

He sighed. Tim didn’t begrudge Dawn Spike’s comfort. He well remembered sobbing that hard in the vampire’s arms, and as much as he didn’t like her at the moment, a little time had given him some distance. Dawn had lied to him, but his baggage made it more likely that he’d take it hard, and that wasn’t her fault.

Tim had his own theories on what had happened. From the couple nights he’d spent with Dawn, he knew that she was on the verge of hitting rock bottom. Tim was also well aware what kinds of risks Dawn had probably been taking. He had taken similar risks himself in the past, and he knew how dangerous it could be.

Tara answered the door at his first knock. “Tim? Is everything okay?”

“I think so,” Tim replied, entering once she stepped aside with Luz following. “Dawn showed up at our door this morning really upset. Spike’s taking care of her.”

Tara wasn’t all that surprised that Dawn had gone to Spike. She had known that if Dawn would just let herself reach out, the vampire would probably be the one she would go to. “Are you okay with that?”

Tim looked surprised. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if your anger with Dawn affected how you felt about Spike helping her,” Tara said quietly.

Tim frowned, sitting down at the kitchen table. “No, I mean, I knew if something happened with Dawn she’d come first.”

Tara poured a cup of coffee for him. “Spike isn’t placing Dawn first, Tim.”

“I know that,” Tim said quietly. “Spike told me he wasn’t going to ditch me or anything. It’s just that she needs him right now. I get that.”

Tara rested a hand on his shoulder. “I think Dawn might need you as well, sweetie. I’m not saying you should forgive her, but—”

“I’m not that angry anymore,” Tim replied quietly. “I get why she did it.” He sighed. “About a year after I started living with Spike, I got into a fight at school. It was over something stupid. Some guy called me a fag, and I guess I was just scared that people would find out that I’d turned tricks, or maybe that they already knew.” Tim looked up at her. “I know what it’s like to be that angry, and to do stupid stuff.”

The woman sat down next to him. “That’s a very mature attitude to take.”

He shrugged. “It’s reality. If you’ve been down at the bottom, you kind of owe it to other people to help them up.” Tim laughed. “Besides, Spike and I have one thing in common for sure.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re both Love’s bitch.”


	15. Chapter 15

**“Hope is the feeling you have that the feeling you have isn’t permanent.” ~Jean Kerr**

Spike was trembling with rage by the time Dawn finally fell asleep. He put her in his bed and then left a note saying he was going to the store in case she woke. There was no way he was going to let her believe he’d left her again.

Someone had taken advantage of her; of that much he was certain. No matter how foolish Dawn had been, she hadn’t been capable of consenting to sex—or anything else. Based on what she had told him, the vampire had to wonder if someone hadn’t slipped something into her drink.

He stopped a few times to punch the sewer walls, barking up his knuckles but releasing little of his rage. When he emerged inside the Magic Box, both Tara and Tim were talking quietly. “I wondered when you were going to show up,” Tara said quietly. “What happened?”

Spike quickly told them both what had happened. “Dunno what we can do about her classes,” he confessed. “If she’s failing—”

“I think I might be able to help,” Tara said. “If Dawn and I go talk to her professors, we might be able to get them to cut her some slack.”

Spike scowled. “’m more interested in findin’ the guy that—” He couldn’t finish.

“Maybe we should think about calling the police,” Tara suggested. “Even if Dawn doesn’t remember, they could find out what happened. Surely someone saw something.”

“No cops,” Tim said quietly. “Maybe if Dawn wants it, but I don’t think we should call them. You know they’re just going to dig into her personal life. Even if they did find out what happened, it’s going to be he-said, she-said, and they’re going to drag her through the mud.”

Both Spike and Tara frowned. “Whoever he is, he’s not gonna get away with it,” Spike growled.

“I’m not saying he should,” Tim replied. “I’m just saying that the courts aren’t the way to go. If it even got that far, you know what a jury would do to her.”

Tara closed her eyes briefly, hating the reality behind Tim’s words, but knowing he was right. A lawyer would dig up every dirty secret, every boyfriend, every wild party that she’d attended, and in the end he would say that it was Dawn’s fault for putting herself in harm’s way. The worst part was a lot of people would buy that argument, because it let them believe that the universe was an orderly place. Good things happened to good people, and bad things happened to bad people.

Even though they all knew that life wasn’t that simple.

“Tim’s right,” Tara stated. “If Dawn wants to go to the police, that’s one thing, but it’s not a decision we can make for her.”

Spike’s eyes glittered. “I wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ to the cops anyway.”

“Spike—” Tara warned.

The vampire didn’t care to listen. “If he’s done this to Dawn, chances are he’ll do it to some other girl. ‘m not goin’ to let that happen, Glinda. I can’t.”

The witch bit her lip. There was a part of her that agreed with Spike, that wanted to find the best castrating spell available and try it out. There was another part of her that acknowledged that things didn’t always work that way, that justice was not always done. Sometimes people got away with things they should not get away with, and vigilante justice was not the answer.

And yet hadn’t the Scoobies taken matters into their own hands a time or two? Was it really so wrong?

“I want you to keep me informed, Spike,” she finally said. “I won’t try to stop you or anything, but I’m involved, and I need to know what you’re going to do.” She turned to look at Tim. “Would you watch the shop? I think maybe I should be there when Dawn wakes up.”

“She’ll need you,” Tim agreed quietly. “You should go.”

Spike watched as Tara hurried out into the bright sunlight. “This doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you, lad.”

“I know,” Tim said. “She needs you more than I do right now.”

Spike turned wounded eyes back to the boy. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I swore to protect her, an’ here—”

“Dawn screwed up, Spike,” Tim said bluntly. “No, she didn’t deserve it, and she didn’t ask for it, but she put herself into a bad spot. Dawn didn’t have anybody watching her back. It’s going to be hard on her, but she’ll pull though.”

Spike’s jaw clenched. “I should have been able to stop it.”

“You can’t stop every bad thing that happens in this world, Spike,” Tim shot back. “Life is just really shitty sometimes.”

There was more truth to Tim’s statement than Spike wanted to accept. His soul hated the ugliness of the world; that much hadn’t changed from his days of being human. The man he had been had buried himself in poetry to avoid looking at it. What he had become meant that he had fewer moral restrictions on what he could do.

Some things couldn’t be changed.

Spike swore harshly, the anger within demanding to be loosed somehow. “He’s gonna pay.”

“And when you find him, I’ll be happy to join you,” Tim replied. “Because you’re right. He shouldn’t get away with this.”

~~~~~

Tara didn’t have to wait too long for Dawn to wake up. The girl came stumbling out of Spike’s bedroom about a half hour after she arrived, stopping at the sight of Tara. “Hey, Tara,” Dawn said, sounding wary. “What are you doing here?”

“Spike thought you might need me,” Tara replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Dawn said, her bottom lip trembling again.

Tara rose and embraced the girl, smoothing her hair back in a soothing motion. “It’s going to be okay, Dawnie. We’re going to get this figured out.”

“How, Tara?” Dawn asked.

Tara wasn’t quite sure herself. “I don’t know, sweetie. It’s probably going to take a while, but you’re going to work this out.” She led Dawn over to the couch. “You want to tell me what’s been going on?”

Dawn had refused to talk about things up till now, but the weight of her silence hung on her like stones. The words—and the pain—came tumbling out. “After—after Buffy died, I just couldn’t deal with it, you know?” She laid her head against Tara’s shoulder, needing the contact. “School didn’t feel important anymore, and I just needed to forget for a while. And then it felt so good to forget, I didn’t want to remember again, and it just kept going.”

Tara could relate. She’d pulled some fairly stupid stunts herself after her mom had died. Left alone without any support from her family, Tara had gone wild—drinking, smoking anything she could get her hands on, performing dangerous rituals, sleeping with random guys. All of that had left an indelible mark on her, and while Tara had recovered to a large extent, she remembered the pain of those days clearly.

“What happened last night?”

Dawn sighed. “I went to a party with this guy, Alan. I don’t remember what happened exactly. I think maybe I drank too much, but I don’t know.”

Tara was quiet. “Do you think you were drugged?”

“I don’t know,” Dawn replied. “I really don’t, Tara.”

Tara hugged the girl. “Do you think you could eat something?”

Dawn smiled tremulously. “Yeah, I’m really hungry.”

Tara managed to find some canned soup and the makings for sandwiches. “You might want to think about going to the doctor, Dawn,” she said.

Dawn blinked back tears. “Tara—”

Tara sat down next to her, making eye contact. “You need to get tested to make sure you’re okay, and I think you should make sure you weren’t drugged. If you were, that changes things.”

“I don’t want to talk to the police,” Dawn said quickly. “I just—I don’t think I can.”

“Okay,” Tara replied calmly. “That’s up to you, Dawnie.”

Dawn looked at her, eyes wide. “Would you go to the doctor with me, Tara?”

The woman put an arm around her shoulders. “Whatever you need.”

~~~~~

It had been a very long day. Tara had managed to get Dawn an appointment at the women’s clinic in town, where she normally went for her own physical exams. The doctor had been very warm and understanding, prescribing Dawn emergency contraceptives to reduce the risk of pregnancy and giving her information on getting tested for STDs. She had assured both of them that she could run a urine screen for any traces of rohypnol or GHB, which would give them a better idea of what had happened.

The doctor had also given Dawn the phone number for a therapist, suggesting that she might need to talk to someone.

The last thing Dawn wanted to do was to tell one more person about what had happened. She felt ashamed enough already. In the end, she managed to convince Tara to let her go home by herself. The witch reluctantly agreed on the condition that Dawn call her if she needed her, for any reason at all.

When Tara arrived home, she slumped at her kitchen table, exhausted. She felt her own measure of guilt for what had happened. She had seen Dawn foundering, and now Tara wondered if there wasn’t something else she could have done. Shouldn’t she have tried harder to get the girl to listen to reason? Was there something she might have said, stories from her own past to share? Had she truly done her best, or had Dawn’s actions finally pushed her to the point where she was too exasperated to try again?

Had she set Spike up for another load of guilt by asking him to take care of Dawn?

The summer that Buffy had been gone, they had all been busy with their own burdens of grief. Although Tara had cared for Buffy, she hadn’t been as close to the Slayer as the others. She had looked after Dawn as best she could, but much of her energy had been spent on Willow, and on recovering from Glory’s brain-suck. The sense of being incomplete, of having something missing had lasted long after Willow had managed to heal her.

In the end, it had been largely Spike who had dealt with the girl’s grief, who had sat with her in the long evenings. It had been the vampire who helped them keep Sunnydale from being overrun by demons or vampires. Spike who had been the only one capable of eliciting laughter from Dawn.

Spike, whom they had treated like shit as soon as Buffy returned.

Tara supposed she was as guilty of that as the rest of them. She’d had so little experience with the vampire before he’d received the chip that she had less baggage to work through, and therefore had a better ability to acknowledge the strides he had made in becoming a better man.

She’d tried to help when Buffy had come to her, spilling her secrets of her sexual encounters with the vampire. Tara knew that she might have done better, but again she’d been caught up with Willow—or being away from Willow.

That, and the vampire had always made her just a little nervous.

Tara sighed. It didn’t do any good to sit around blaming herself for what she might have done. There was no way of knowing whether or not she would have been able to make a difference back then. Just as there was no way of knowing whether or not she’d given up on Dawn too early. It was just as true that by pushing harder Dawn might have run further, and gotten herself into an even more dangerous situation, from which she might not have walked away.

The message light on her answering machine was blinking, and Tara hit the play button. Tim’s voice came through the speaker. “Hey, Tara. I just thought I’d let you know that Spike’s planning on coming over to your place tonight. I think you should keep him there if you can. Otherwise, he might do something he’ll regret.”

Tara hit delete and started making herself some tea. She wasn’t hungry—she was too tired to be hungry tonight. She was drinking her second cup when the knock came. “Spike?”

“It’s me, luv,” he replied, opening the front door. “I take it Tim let you know I was coming. Is Dawn here?”

Tara shook her head. “No, she wanted some time alone. I made her promise to call if she needed anything. And, yes, Tim called to let me know you were coming. He said you should probably stay here tonight.”

“I can’t,” Spike said, his voice flat. “The longer we let this go, the less chance we have of catchin’ the bastard.”

Tara shook her head. “Normally, I might agree with you, but it was a big party, Spike. Letting it go another day isn’t going to hurt anything, and it might keep you from doing something rash.”

“I don’t plan on bein’ rash,” Spike replied. His voice was calm, dangerously so. “I plan on bein’ real methodical ‘bout this.”

Tara got the sense that Spike planned on doing some serious damage, but he didn’t have all the details yet. “Wait for the doctor’s results,” she urged. “Once we know whether or not Dawn was drugged, we’ll have a better idea of what happened.”

“He took advantage of her!” Spike protested. “She didn’t even have the chance to say no, or fight back.”

“This isn’t about you and Buffy,” Tara replied.

Spike stared at her as though she’d struck him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re feeling guilty because you didn’t stop what happened to Dawn,” Tara replied. “I know, because I’m feeling the same. But you didn’t cause this. You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“What does it have to do with Buffy an’ me?” Spike demanded. “That was a long time ago, an’—”

“You still feel guilty.”

Somehow she’d hit the nail on the head, Spike realized. His own guilt for what had happened in Buffy’s bathroom was leeching into his feelings over what had been done to Dawn. “I feel like it’s my fault.” Spike’s voice was hoarse. “What I said to her—she was so bloody angry. If I hadn’t said those things, she never would have—” He looked over at Tara. “What have I done?”

“It wasn’t you,” Tara responded. She grabbed his hand, hoping the contact would emphasize her words. “Dawn chose to go to that party, just like someone else chose to be a bastard. We can’t always help what other people do, Spike.”

“Can’t we?” Spike asked. “Then what bloody use are we, Tara? What bloody use am I?”

The kiss was meant to comfort. It was meant to show support and affection and love. He returned it gently, and then pulled back. “Tara, I—”

She cut him off with her hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t apologize.”

“’m not sorry,” he replied. “’less it changes—this. Whatever this is.”

“Do we have to define it?” Tara asked quietly. “Can we just let it be?”

Spike rested his forehead against hers. “Didn’t think you liked blokes.”

“I don’t.” She smiled gently. “But I like you.”

He laughed. “I won’t do anythin’ stupid tonight, Tara. Promise. But once we know for sure, I’m goin’ to hunt the bastard down.”

Tara nodded. “I understand, Spike. Just—stay here tonight, please? I think we both need to not feel alone.”

“I’ve been alone for a long time, luv,” he replied.

“Me too,” she said. “But I don’t want that tonight.”

“Right.” Spike’s fingers brushed her hair away from her face gently. “Then I’ll stay.”

Tara grasped his hand. “Will you stay with me?”

Spike suddenly realized exactly what she was asking. “I don’t—Are you sure, Tara? I don’t want to—”

“You’re not taking advantage of me in my vulnerable state,” Tara said with a small smile. “I need to be held tonight, Spike.”

With a touch and a question, Tara had managed to cool his rage. She was right; they needed more information before any action could be taken. Although Spike’s first reaction had been to go out and hunt down each and every male who had been at the party, it was a hot-headed and foolish impulse. Most likely, he’d end up regretting it later.

The last thing Spike needed were more regrets.

Spike swallowed hard, then nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“I told you I liked you,” Tara replied, a mysterious smile gracing her features. She led him to her bedroom.

Spike suddenly felt shy. “Can I—can we just sleep, luv? I don’t—”

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, Tara caught his mouth in a kiss again. She’d kissed guys before, of course, in the midst of her rebellious period after her mother’s death. Kissing Spike was a little different, however. For one thing, he was better at it. More than that, Tara knew this man’s heart, and it was one she loved.

The kiss was to reassure him—to let Spike know that she wasn’t going to change her mind about this. Tara wasn’t quite sure when things had changed between them, but they had. He had become beautiful to her.

“Still want to sleep?”

Spike chuckled, tasting her lips again. “Yeah, actually I do, although ‘m startin’ to question my sanity. I want us both to be sure.”

Tara knew it was his wounds talking—that Buffy’s continual hot and cold routine had cast doubt on every other woman’s motives. They had both had a long, emotional day. It was probably better to wait.

Although Tara knew exactly what she wanted.

“Be sure, Spike,” Tara replied, pulling him with her onto the bed. They held each other, and Tara felt a deep peace settle into her bones, like she hadn’t known for a very long time.

Spike waited until she slept before whispering, “Love you.”


	16. Chapter 16

**“We are healed of suffering only by experiencing it in the full.” ~Marcel Proust**

This was what Tara had missed most. Spike still slept, his head buried in the crook of her neck, one arm tossed carelessly over her waist. She had missed the feeling of waking up next to someone, of feeling safe in their arms. It was strange that it would be Spike who could make her feel safe, but Tara had long ago learned to accept strangeness.

They did live on a Hellmouth, after all.

She brought a hand up to touch his face, having felt the faint stirrings that indicated he was waking up. Spike groaned and shifted. “Not time to get up, is it?”

“I have to open the shop today,” Tara replied apologetically. “But you can sleep as long as you want.”

The early signs of a pout crossed Spike’s face. “Don’t want you to leave,” he protested. “You’re all warm an’ soft. An’ you smell nice.”

It was possibly the oddest string of compliments Tara had ever received, but she found herself blushing in pleasure anyway. She ran a hand through his hair in response. “How come you still bleach your hair?”

“You don’t like it?” he asked, although his careless tone informed Tara that in this case her opinion probably didn’t matter to him.

Tara smiled. “No, it suits you. I just wondered why you do it.”

“Habit, I s’pose,” Spike replied. “An’ it still goes with the image.”

Tara wasn’t sure what image he was talking about, or what he was trying to protect. The Big Bad was long gone, replaced by something softer, though still dangerous. “What image?” she teased.

Spike might have replied in kind, but he was caught by her pose. She leaned over him where he laid, her dark blonde hair falling around her face. Her lush curves pressed up against him—she looked wanton, like a goddess. “You’re so beautiful.”

There was love in his eyes—love and naked desire. Tara’s breath caught in her throat as Spike reached up to trace the line of her shoulder, down her arm, barely brushing her breast. It sent a wave of heat through her body. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at her with that expression in their eyes.

“So are you,” she replied quietly, dipping her head to catch his lips with hers. Their kiss was not quite as gentle this time around. There was hunger behind it—they were both the devourer and the devoured.

When Tara pulled back to catch her breath, there was awe in Spike’s eyes. “Why are you doin’ this?” he asked, raw need in his voice.

Tara knew what it was to be wounded by a person. She had walked away from Willow believing that she was doing the right thing for both of them, but that didn’t mean it had been easy. It would have been easier if she could have hated Willow, or even if she had been able to despise her. But she had walked away loving her just as much then as she had before the magic-use had gotten out of hand.

Tara realized that Buffy had broken him. The Slayer had managed to reduce Spike to his basest urges. What Buffy had not realized was that it had been the man she’d destroyed, not the demon. The man had been there long before Spike had gone in search of his soul.

Tara brushed feather-light kisses down his face in response. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

It was impossible. Spike was certain he hadn’t heard her right. No one loved him back—except possibly for lost children and dogs. “You’re—” He stopped as he saw the truth of it in her eyes. “You’re serious.”

“Do you really think I’d say it if I wasn’t?”

The hurt in her tone was real, and Spike hastened to reassure her. “No, luv, it’s just—” He stopped. “You love me.”

Tara smiled. He sounded so blown away, like she’d just handed him the moon on a platter. “I do.”

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Spike asked.

With one last kiss, Tara disentangled herself. “I know.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“More than okay.”

Spike propped himself up on an elbow, watching as she grabbed a robe to go shower. “Tara—”

“Get some more sleep, Spike,” she replied softly. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

And Spike was content to sleep in Tara-scented sheets.

~~~~~

Dawn spoke with all four of her professors on her own. Even though Tara had offered to accompany her, the girl had refused. It might have been stupid, but she really wanted to get herself out of this mess on her own, or at least with minimal assistance.

It could have been worse, she supposed. Two of her professors said they would let her take the midterm over again. They had been very understanding about her difficulties in dealing with her grief. The other professors had been kind, but firm. She had blown the midterm, and they didn’t give out second chances. On the other hand, they had each offered to let Dawn do an extra project for their class. It meant a lot more work, but she had a chance to pull her grades up.

It didn’t look like she’d have time to go out anytime soon, and Spring Break was officially canceled for her.

On the other hand, Dawn didn’t think she wanted to go out, or see anyone, or talk to anyone. She was incredibly apprehensive about running into Alan or any of the other people she’d gone to the party with. The anxiety didn’t lessen when she got the call from the doctor on the results from the tests.

She’d been drugged. And then she’d been raped.

And she remembered none of it.

The words seemed so cold, so stark, especially in light of the fact that it was a blank.

There was nothing there.

Except the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop.

~~~~~

Tim had no idea what he was doing. It wasn’t like he and Dawn were on the best of terms. The girl had Spike and Tara looking out for her now, so she didn’t need someone else making the rounds. He should just leave her alone.

Except he’d been where she was—sick with shame and angry at the events that had led up to it. Like he’d told Tara, those who had been at the bottom had a duty to help others who were suffering.

Dawn opened the door after the third time he knocked, after he’d called through the door. “Come on, Dawn. I know you’re in there. It’s Tim.”

The door swung open slowly. Dawn’s eyes were red and swollen. She looked horrible.

Tim’s heart melted. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She couldn’t even manage a smile. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I thought I’d come by and see how things were.” Shuffling his feet slightly, he looked over her shoulder. “I brought mochas.”

Dawn noticed the cardboard carrier he held in his hand for the first time and felt the tears threaten again. “Come in.”

Tim followed her inside, handing her one of the cups when she’d shut the door. “You doing okay?”

“Really not,” Dawn replied. “But—thanks. I mean, I don’t understand,” she confessed. “I thought you hated me.”

“Hate’s a strong word,” Tim replied, trying for levity. “Pissed as hell would be a lot closer.”

A flush rose to her cheeks. “Tim, I’m sorry. Really sorry. I just—”

“Drop it.”

“But, I—”

“I mean it,” he said firmly, but his voice was kind. “Look, Dawn, we didn’t get off to the best of starts. I thought maybe we could start over.”

Dawn didn’t understand. She hadn’t been very nice to him. She should be the one asking to make a fresh start, and instead he was offering one to her with no prodding. His kindness undid her.

Tim watched her tears start to flow again, remembering well when the smallest kindness Spike showed had been enough to start him off. He hadn’t thought he deserved it, and that made it the more precious. Taking the cup from her hand, Tim pulled her into a hug. Dawn stiffened, then relaxed, burying her face in his t-shirt.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you being so nice?”

Tim pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes. “First, because we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other whether we want to or not. It might be nicer if we actually want to.”

Sensing that there was more to the story, Dawn prompted, “And second?”

“Second, because I’ve been where you are now.” The girl might have protested that there was no way he could understand, but then she snapped her mouth shut at the look on his face. It had taken a lot of courage just for Tim to say that much, and she suddenly sensed that.

Dawn had made a vow to be more sensitive. This seemed to be a good time to start. “Thanks.”

Tim relaxed as he realized that she wasn’t going to ask questions, nor was she going to debate him on the issue. “You’re welcome.” He sat down on her couch. “I think Tara’s making dinner tonight. I told her I’d try and convince you to come.”

“That would be good,” Dawn said quietly, sitting next to him. She both wanted to be alone and detested the chaos of her own thoughts. It was hard for her to concentrate in the empty apartment. Her mind kept wanting to replay the events of the previous night, trying to fill in the gaps that refused to be filled.

“You hear from the doctor?”

Dawn was silent for a moment, leaving Tim to think that she wasn’t going to reply. “They called earlier.” The silence stretched on. “Roofies.”

“Oh.” Tim’s face grew pinched, knowing what that meant. Dawn had been stupid, but anybody could be a little careless and accept a drugged drink. You could even be really careful and accept a drugged drink. It shed a different light on things.

Spike was going to go ape-shit.

“I just feel like such an idiot,” Dawn muttered. “I mean, I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew Alan was a jerk.” She turned to look at him. “I was safe with you, but—”

Tim shrugged slightly. “Spike would have kicked my ass if I’d let something happen to you,” he reminded her. “And I’m not that kind of guy.”

“No, you’re not.” Dawn rubbed at her eyes, which were sore and tired. She needed to study, get busy on all that stuff that hadn’t seemed important just a few days before.

Tim reached over with a tentative hand and patted her on the back. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to the police, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dawn said irritably. “Maybe if—no one’s going to be able to prove it was Alan. If it was Alan. I can’t even say, ‘Yeah, that’s the guy who raped me.’”

“You have to do what you think is best,” Tim replied softly. “No matter what anybody else says, you have to make your own decision on this.”

Dawn gave him a grateful look. “Thank you.” She sighed. “Spike’s going to go crazy, isn’t he?”

“Hopefully Tara will keep him from going too far off the deep end,” Tim replied. “But that’s definitely a possibility.”

~~~~~

Tara had given Spike a long talk about how pressing Dawn for details would be a very bad thing, ending in a warning about doing something rash. Spike wasn’t actually planning on doing anything rash or impulsive. No, he was going to take his time, find out exactly _who_ had hurt Dawn, and then he was going to flay them alive. Slowly.

It might even take a couple of days.

The soul gave him a small twinge at the thought, but Spike ignored it. There were some things that the soul did not have a say over, and taking care of those he loved was one of them. No one hurt someone he called his.

No one.

Well, he probably wouldn’t do any flaying, Spike admitted to himself. It was a satisfying thought, but a little too messy. What he would do was make sure the wanker didn’t do it again. A certain amount of regret for past actions was a necessary corollary. Pain was a nice prod.

Speaking of prods…

“Don’t even think about it,” Tara warned him as she finished her dinner preparations.

Spike gave her his most innocent look. “Think about what?”

“You have a soul, Spike,” Tara reminded him. “You might actually be able to do something you’d regret.”

“Didn’t need a soul for that,” Spike muttered. “Just want to make sure he doesn’t do it again.”

“We don’t know the whole story.” Tara gave him a firm pat on the arm. “Exercise some patience.”

“Whoever said patience was a virtue didn’t know anythin’,” he grumbled, but didn’t argue. Spike would heed her words for now.

The evening was much more subdued than their previous get-together had been. After Dawn shared the results of the test, and once again insisted on not going to the authorities, no one knew what to say. The others were struggling with their own emotions and painful memories too fiercely to know just what words to speak. Even Tara seemed at a loss, so they talked about random things and tried to avoid the elephant in the room.

When the girl announced her desire to go home, Spike stood immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“Spike—” The vampire turned to look at Tara. “Be careful.”

They walked in silence. “I’m goin’ to get him,” Spike finally said after a while, his words short and clipped.

“Don’t.”

“Dawn—”

“I was stupid, Spike, and there’s no way to know for sure who it was.”

“I don’t know about that,” Spike growled. “I can think of a few ways.”

Dawn was quiet. “I just want it all to go away, like it never happened.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I know that.” She took in a deep, hitching breath, letting it out on a shaky laugh. “I won’t ask you not to investigate. And I’m not going to ask you not to go after him, because I know you probably would anyway. Just don’t do him any lasting damage, okay?” Dawn asked. “Maybe he deserves it, but if I—”

“This wasn’t your fault, Dawn!” Spike exploded. “He drugged you!”

“And I went to the party with Alan when I knew better,” Dawn replied stubbornly. “I wasn’t careful. I—”

“You nothing!” he hissed, his eyes intent. “No one asks for that kind of shit, Niblet. No one puts themselves in that position. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Just like Mom and Buffy shouldn’t have died?” Dawn asked quietly. “Shit happens, Spike.”

“Doesn’t mean it should,” he replied, just as stubbornly. “You’re prob’ly right. If we left this up to the police, they’d botch it up real good. You’d end up hurt worse than you already are. I’m just goin’ to make sure that bastard knows he messed with the wrong girl.”

Dawn was silent for a long moment. “If you find out what really happened,” she began softly, “I need to know.”

Spike let out a deep, unneeded breath. “You got it.”


	17. Chapter 17

**“Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more man’s nature run to the more ought law to weed it out.” ~Sir Francis Bacon**

“I need to find out what happened,” Spike said without preamble when he arrived back at the apartment to find Tim already there.

Tim looked up from the book he’d been reading, Luz’s head resting on his thigh as she looked up at him lovingly. “Okay.”

“You think you could get into one of those parties, suss out what went on?” Spike asked.

Tim was surprised that Spike was including him on his vengeance trip. “Possibly, but why me?”

“Because you’re of an age to pass for a student,” Spike replied. “I go in there, an’ they’re gonna know somethin’ is up.”

That was true enough. If Spike started asking questions, it would be fairly obvious that he wanted answers for a specific reason, and that could shut people up real quick. “What are you going to do?”

Spike simply gave him a look, and Tim sighed. He understood Spike’s desire for blood, and had a hard time blaming the vampire. Spike had killed his attackers, but that had been in the heat of the moment, and Tim had no doubt that the men would have killed him when they were done. This could end up being cold-blooded murder, however, and that was a different story.

“Look, Spike, I’ll do what I can, but I’m not going to make any promises,” Tim said. “I have no idea if I’ll be able to find anything.”

Spike shrugged. “You have a better chance than I do. Just don’t do anythin’ rash, yeah?”

Tim laughed. “Look who’s talking.”

~~~~~

Dawn found it nearly impossible to stay in her apartment. The emptiness seemed to shout at her. Left to her own devices, all she seemed able to do was to berate herself for getting into such a predicament, and the epithets running through her head were harsh and unforgiving.

In the end, she went to the Magic Box to study for a while, knowing that Tara wouldn’t mind. The blonde witch actually seemed pleased to see her, and Dawn settled in for a long afternoon of studying. She only had another couple days before the retakes were scheduled.

Tim ambled through the door a few minutes after she arrived. “How’s it going, Dawn?”

“Good,” she replied. “I’m getting some studying done, anyway.”

They both left her alone after that, and Dawn found herself getting lost in her work. This was what she should have been doing, she thought. She should have been burying herself in her schoolwork, rather than trying to numb the pain with alcohol and parties. It would have been a lot safer, that was for sure.

“Here.” Dawn glanced up to see Tim set a sack next to her elbow. “Tara said you’d probably be hungry.”

She sat up, easing stiff muscles. “Thanks. Are—are you going out tonight?”

“Thought I might,” Tim replied. He left it at that, not extending an invitation.

Dawn bit her lip. She would have refused had he asked her to come along anyway. The last thing she really wanted to do was to go to another party, even with Tim, where she knew she’d be safe. Still, she couldn’t help but remember the easy camaraderie from the night they’d gone to the movies together, and Dawn wondered if they’d ever get that back.

“What are you going to do tonight?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Probably more studying. I’ve got those retakes in a couple days, plus the reading I haven’t been doing, plus the extra projects, and all the regular work.”

Tim frowned. “Spring break is next week.”

“Spring break got canceled if you’re me,” she replied wryly.

Tim smiled at her encouragingly. “Well, you can’t work all week,” he said. “We’ll have to go to the movies or something again.”

Hope flared in Dawn’s heart. She was sorely feeling the need for a friend. “That would be cool.”

~~~~~

“You want to crash a frat party?” Meredith said incredulously.

Tim shook his head. “No, I’d rather have an invitation actually.”

The girl gave him a look. “You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb, Tim,” she pointed out. “No one is going to believe you belong there.”

Tim grinned at her. “You’d be surprised at how well I clean up. Do you think you can help?”

“I have a friend who rushed,” Meredith finally said slowly. “She might need a date, since I don’t think she’s seeing anybody right now. But why would you even want to go? You’re not in college, and there are plenty of better parties to go to.”

Tim hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. “Have you heard any rumors about these frat guys using roofies?”

Meredith stared at him. “Roofies? What—” A knowing look passed over her face. “You’re looking for information.”

“There was some stuff that happened,” Tim replied reluctantly. “Somebody slipped something into a friend’s drink. I want to find out who.”

Meredith had a good idea of who Tim was talking about, since none of their crowd went in for the Greek parties, preferring to throw their own. “I didn’t think you guys were friends.”

Tim sighed, knowing that Meredith had a good idea of what had happened, and hating that he was spilling Dawn’s secrets without asking. “Meredith—”

“I’m not going to say anything,” she quickly assured him. “Let me call my friend.” Meredith sighed. “If these guys are using rohypnol—” Her lips tightened. Whatever her opinion of Dawn might be—and Meredith was fairly certain that Dawn was the friend in question—roofies weren’t something to sneeze at. If some guy was using a pill to take what he wanted, every gullible young co-ed would be vulnerable.

Tim watched Meredith as she spoke with her friend on the phone, his estimation of her steadily rising. She was one tough chick, and he smiled as he listened in to her conversation. “No, Emily, he’s a good guy, and this isn’t a pity date. He’s checking out something for me.” She looked back over her shoulder and gave him a grin. Tim appreciated the lengths to which she was going to protect Dawn. “I heard there was a guy using rohypnol. I’m doing a story for the school paper.”

There was a long pause. “Friday? Yeah, you can meet him here.” Meredith hung up the phone. “I hope you didn’t have any other plans for Friday.”

“Investigating a bunch of frat guys is exactly what I wanted to do with my night,” Tim said sarcastically. “And what’s this about the school paper?”

Meredith smiled grimly. “I write articles for the campus paper, Tim. This would make a great story.”

He looked at her, alarmed. “You can’t—”

“You haven’t given me any details, remember? I’ll keep whatever conclusions I draw to myself. She shrugged. “Of course, if you do get evidence that someone is using drugs at this party, then I’m free to print that.” Meredith gave him a look that was—if he wasn’t mistaken—just a little vengeful. “I can completely ruin his reputation. Make sure that no girl on campus ever trusts him enough to go out with him again.”

A knowing look crossed Tim’s face. “You—”

“A friend of mine,” Meredith replied. “This kind of thing isn’t nearly as uncommon as people want to believe. I want to make sure that no one has the opportunity or the desire to do it again on this campus.”

~~~~~

Tara was looking at Spike suspiciously. “You’re not going out tonight?”

Spike frowned. “Why should I? You’re stayin’ in.”

“What about Dawn?” she pressed.

“Figured you were right,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s better just to wait things out.”

Tara sat down next to him on her couch. He was flipping through the channels and not looking at her, and she reached over and grabbed the remote, turning off the TV. “Don’t lie to me.”

“You have a problem being right?” he asked, amused, his expression innocent.

She gave him a dirty look. “Don’t lie to me, Spike, and don’t shut me out. I told you I wanted to know what was going on, no matter what it was.”

Spike wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “’m not lyin’. I’m waitin’ until I have all the facts, just like you said I should. There a problem with that?”

“No,” Tara said. “But you’ve never been known for your patience, Spike.”

He sighed, slumping against the back of the couch. “Look, luv, I know you don’t want me to go kill anybody, an’ I promised Dawn I wouldn’t do any lastin’ damage, alright? ‘m goin’ to be careful.”

“I didn’t say you wouldn’t, sweetie,” Tara replied softly. “So how are you getting the information?”

Spike glanced over at her, then admitted. “Tim’s goin’ undercover for me Friday night. He managed to finagle an invitation to a party at the same house Dawn was at. Hopefully, Tim’ll find out the whole story, an’ we can go from there.”

Tara blinked in surprise. She honestly hadn’t thought Spike would let things go that long, or that he would allow Tim to do any of the reconnaissance work for him. To the contrary, she’d expected the vampire to cry vengeance and start hunting people down.

She thought she would have to rein him in.

At her expression, Spike pushed himself up off the couch angrily. “I _can_ control myself, Glinda. Might not always care about what’s lawful, but I want to do what’s right. Won’t do to go attackin’ some kid who didn’t do anythin’.”

“Spike—”

“’m not some animal,” he continued, as though he hadn’t heard her. “I’m not the most patient of blokes, yeah, but you could say that ‘bout a lot of people. That’s why I got this bloody soul—wanted to be able to control myself.”

“I know you’ve changed,” Tara said, when he finally seemed to be winding down.

Spike gave her a hard look. “Do you?” he challenged. “Or do you think that whatever I do, ‘s gonna be too much because Spike’s a monster.”

“I never said you were a monster,” Tara replied, steel in her own tone. “If you did this—if you hurt someone, it wouldn’t be because there’s a demon in you. It would be because of the man.”

Her words rocked him back a step. It was the truth. It had been what he’d always asked Buffy to see—that what he felt nearly always came from the humanity that had somehow always resided inside him, not the demon.

Spike the man had loved the Slayer first. It had taken his demon a little longer to climb on board.

“Tara—”

It was her turn to interrupt. “No, Spike. You keep assuming that I’m going to feel something for you based on what Buffy felt for you. I’m not the Slayer. I’m not going to run from this. You forget that I’ve loved someone who could be scary before, someone who didn’t always walk on the right side of the line.”

“You left her.”

“She got out of control,” Tara replied.

Spike wasn’t ready to bend quite yet. “Which is what you’re sayin’ I’m goin’ to do.”

“I’m saying it’s a possibility,” Tara said evenly. “What happens next is up to you.”

The soul didn’t always make it easier to do the right thing. No one had ever told Spike that, although he should have been able to figure it out for himself. After all, the Scooby gang had managed to screw up badly, and they all possessed souls. In theory, anyway.

Spike knew that he probably wouldn’t lose Tara, even if he did lose control. They would argue about what he should do, whether or not he should go after the guy. Even if he went on a rampage, Tara might still trust him—if only because he had hidden nothing, nor was he trying to control her as Willow had done.

He was telling the truth, however. Spike had gotten his soul to allow him to choose. Before those few minutes in the bathroom with Buffy, he had honestly believed that he had the capacity to be good, to do better. After that, Spike had changed his mind, deciding he needed something else. He needed a compass.

Spike had also believed that it would make him his own man.

The soul had freed him, he supposed, although that wasn’t always what it felt like. He made choices based on what he felt was right, and nothing else. Feeling that it was right in the moment didn’t always give him a clear-cut answer, however.

Emotion wasn’t always the best of guides.

“’m not goin’ to kill anybody.” Spike was still standing, his hands shoved in his pockets. “’m not even plannin’ on hurtin’ him much. Just want to scare the shit out of him so he won’t do it again.”

Tara found she couldn’t argue with that. “Spike—”

“This is who I am, Glinda. If you can’t deal with that…”

She rose to meet him. Tara had forgotten how wounded Spike was. He presented such a strong front, it was difficult to remember how vulnerable he could be to questions or criticisms of any sort. Spike didn’t trust her yet—didn’t trust that she could disagree with him, and yet still love him. “Did I say that?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Spike was hunched in on himself, obviously ready to bolt, anger and unease in every line of his lean frame. “Look at me, sweetie,” she commanded gently. When he finally met her eyes, Tara cupped his cheek with her hand. “I may disagree with your methods. I might think that you’ve made a mistake at times. I also know your heart, and I know that you would do anything in your power to protect the people that you love. If you err, you’ll do it because you’re doing your best for them.”

Spike uncoiled, some of the tension leaving him. “Even if I thought you screwed up, that wouldn’t be reason enough for me to run,” Tara said softly.

“Tara—” His voice was choked with emotion. “Don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to—”

She smiled at him. “You won’t, Spike. I’m one tough cookie.”

Spike laughed then, kissing her until she was breathless, his hands buried in her hair. He loved this woman. He would shout it from the rooftops, and she would let him.

Tara was not ashamed of him.

He backed away slightly. “I probably should go. If I stay—”

“Then stay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, taken aback by the challenge in her tone. Spike wasn’t quite so ready to rush into a sexual relationship with the woman he loved as he had been once. That one night with Buffy had changed everything, and not just their relationship. He no longer assumed that the woman’s interpretation of the night’s events would be the same as his own. “I thought—maybe we should wait.”

“Do you want to wait?” Tara replied.

Spike gave her a question for a question. “Do you want me?”

“Yes, I do.” Tara held out her hand. “Let me show you.”

It was a leap of faith. Spike took her hand and made the plunge.


	18. Chapter 18

**“There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved.” ~George Sand**

Spike woke slowly, warm to his bones. His lack of body heat never really bothered him except when he was sleeping. Then even the heaviest sheets and blankets didn’t help keep him warm. Spike always felt that one should be warm while sleeping.

He could count the number of times Buffy had let him hold her like this on one hand. Actually, it had been more like on two fingers. In those moments when she had slept, Spike had had the waking dream that she would finally understand, that she would finally love him in return. He could then pretend that she really was his girl. Spike had the fantasy that she would wake up and turn to him and smile, and then they would just talk.

It had very nearly happened once, but she had left him broken in an alley soon after.

Every time, however, the dream would become a waking nightmare as she rose hastily, threw on her clothes, and told him that it would never happen again. It was a continual dance—a waltz that had nearly ended in madness.

There was still a part of Spike that was desperately afraid of Tara’s reaction when her eyes opened. He knew that she cared about him; the blonde witch had never sent him a message she didn’t back up with action. She had been the one to invite him into her home, into her bed. Into her life.

Spike was scared to death that Tara would open her eyes, realize who she was with, and flee. Or kick him out, since it was her bed.

So he lay there, not sleeping, watching the slight flutter of her eyelids that told him she was dreaming. Spike wondered what she was dreaming about, and if it was about him or someone else. He wondered if she would tell him if he were to ask.

The dream must have been a precursor to waking, because Tara’s eyes soon fluttered open. Spike would have been holding his breath if he’d needed to breathe.

She smiled at him in the next moment. “Spike. I’m glad you stayed.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, luv,” he responded. “You alright?”

Tara smiled, a slow, lazy smile. “Better than. You?”

“I’m good.” After a long moment when she didn’t move except to shift positions slightly, Spike ventured to ask, “You don’t have to be anywhere this morning?”

“Tim’s opening the shop,” Tara replied. “So we can stay in bed a little longer.”

Spike didn’t mind that scenario a bit, especially when she shifted again, this time to get just a little closer, so that her head rested against his bare chest. She started drawing shapes on his upper arm with a gentle finger. “Was it—was it okay, luv?”

“It was perfect, Spike.” Tara started to laugh. “You know, I always thought that was supposed to be the woman’s question. Traditionally, you know, I would be the weaker partner, especially where I’m from.”

“You’re anything but weak, luv,” Spike replied. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

She shifted slightly. “What about the Slayer?”

“There’s strength, an’ then there’s strength, Glinda. You’ve got the sort that lasts.” Spike smiled admiringly. “You’re like one of those trees that stands for hundreds of years. Solid, you know.”

Tara had never thought of herself as a tree; that had always been Willow. For the longest time, she had thought of herself as standing in Willow’s shadow. To hear Spike speak of her like that, it caused Tara to wonder what led Spike to see in people things no one else saw. “I don’t always feel all that strong.”

“That’s the beauty of it, luv,” he replied easily. “People who know they’re strong, they can beat you over the head with it, make you feel weak. You bring out the best in people.”

“I didn’t bring out the best in Willow.” The words were out of Tara’s mouth before she could pull them back in, and she immediately regretted her comment. The last thing a new relationship needed was a reminder of a previous one.

She had underestimated Spike, however. Underestimated his understanding of how the people you knew affected your life long past when they probably should. They both had their own special regrets, and for that reason they understood each other better than anyone else might. Tara knew that a part of the vampire’s heart would always remain with Buffy, six feet under the topsoil. Spike knew that a part of Tara would always mourn her relationship with Willow. It was the way of things.

It was how they both loved.

“Willow brought out the worst in herself, Tara-luv,” Spike replied quietly. “She was goin’ a bit nuts before you came along. You weren’t around for the ‘my will be done’ spell, but that nearly got all of us killed, an’ no one really said anythin’ about it.”

Tara sighed. “I know, but sometimes—”

“You wonder if you could have stopped her,” Spike finished for her. “You wonder if you’d just found the right words to say, at the right time, you might have been able to salvage it all. You wonder if it was somethin’ in you, or if it really was her, but you’re not quite sure, because you’ve always figured it was your fault in the past when somethin’ went wrong. That ‘bout cover it?”

She shook her head, unbelieving. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you know me so well? I never would have guessed it.”

“Special talent of mine,” Spike replied quietly. “Doesn’t always make people happy, though.”

“I suppose not.”

There was a long pause, and then Spike said quietly, “Can I ask you a question, luv?”

“I’ve asked you plenty,” Tara replied. “I guess turn-about’s fair play.”

“Have you ever gone back? Gone home, I mean?”

“No.” Tara fell silent, remembering. She had thought about it occasionally. As happy as she’d been to finally escape, Tara had wondered if she would be strong enough to go back and visit, to try and reclaim some kind of family. Right after her father and the others had found her, after Spike had proven that she wasn’t a demon, she’d had no desire to see them again.

Ever.

That had been when Willow and the others had proclaimed themselves her family, and for a long time she’d believed it. Later, after things had fallen apart, Tara had pondered the nature of blood kin, and whether or not her father hadn’t been right. Blood kin was always blood kin. A chosen family could break apart at any time.

In the end, Tara had decided that it didn’t matter, that she was better off without them. Some families seemed to destroy or twist every member, and she’d refused to be twisted, refused to be ruined by their small-mindedness.

Perhaps Spike wasn’t so far off when he compared her to a tree after all. “I never did thank you for that,” Tara finally commented.

“For what?” Spike asked, having watched the play of emotions across her face. He saw all the answers there in her expressive eyes.

“For hitting me.” She gave him an impish grin. “You proved I wasn’t a demon.”

He snorted. “That should have been obvious to anyone with eyes. Your git of a father actually had the Scoobies goin’ for a mo.”

Tara’s face turned solemn. “But you saw right through him. You always do.”

Spike stared at her. “You—he didn’t—I mean, he wasn’t—”

“He never touched me,” Tara replied quietly. “Unless you count his belt. The belt made a fairly frequent appearance.”

“It was your brother then,” Spike said knowingly.

Tara didn’t bother asking how Spike knew. At this point, she simply accepted that he seemed to pull the information out of her head. “He tried,” Tara said. “It was one of the reasons I left.”

In response, Spike pulled her closer to him, as though he could erase with his love the damage that her family had wrought. “If you want, I could eat them,” he offered.

Tara giggled. “That’s a lot more tempting than it probably should be.” She stroked his face. “Thank you for being here, Spike. I’m so glad you came back to Sunnydale.”

“Me too, Tara-luv. Me too.”

~~~~~

Tim shifted from foot to foot as he stood outside Meredith’s door. He was thanking his lucky stars that Tara had been able to stabilize Spike a bit. Not that he really believed that the vampire would go off on a rampage, but it had been entirely possible, and Tim wasn’t sure he would have been able to stop Spike.

Then again, he wasn’t completely sure that he wanted to.

Still, this little undercover mission could turn out to be rather interesting, and hopefully fruitful. If he could get proof that this Alan guy was responsible for the roofies, Meredith would get her story and the guy would probably get into some deep shit. Tim was very okay with that scenario.

Meredith’s door swung open, and Tim had the satisfaction of watching her jaw drop. “Told you I could clean up.”

She blinked. Tim had removed all his jewelry, so that none of his piercings were noticeable. He was wearing khakis and a long-sleeved button-down shirt, and his shaggy hair looked as though it had been styled. The tattoos were completely covered, and Meredith suddenly realized that he looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model—only with more clothing. “Wow.”

He grinned. “What can I say? I’m an undercover expert. I blend.”

“You’re definitely going to blend, Tim,” Meredith replied, standing aside so he could enter. “In fact, you look like you belong to a frat house. I never would have thought it was possible.”

Tim shrugged. “Just because I can fit in doesn’t mean I want to. Is your friend here?”

“She said it would be a few minutes.” Meredith gave him an amused look. “You do realize that you’re going to be used as arm candy tonight, don’t you?”

“I’ve got no problem with that,” Tim said, flashing her another grin. Meredith was thinking that Emily was going to be thanking her for years to come.

Emily was, indeed, perfectly happy with her date. She had harbored the suspicion that Meredith was passing off some ugly guy on her for some reason, but Tim was anything but ugly. He wasn’t even the typical punk that Meredith tended to hang out with.

In fact, Tim played the attentive date to the hilt, knowing that he needed Emily’s cooperation if his mission was going to be successful. To his relief, no one looked at him askance, and when asked, Emily explained that he was from out of town. Tim was rather grateful for his accent, since it lent credence to her story.

At one point, Emily went off to talk to some of her sorority sisters, probably to discuss the qualities of their dates. Tim decided to circulate to see if he couldn’t listen in on a few conversations.

People were talking about the usual kinds of things they did at parties—deep philosophies that really weren’t so deep, bands they’d seen recently, cars they wanted to buy, girls they desired. Tim was well aware that the people there were probably the future leaders of America. They had it all—money, class, influence.

And they had no idea what life was really like for the majority.

He spotted the guy that had been with Dawn that night they’d met up at the Bronze, and Tim drifted closer to their corner of the room, trying to be inconspicuous.

A moment later, Tim couldn’t believe his luck. He watched as Alan passed a small plastic bag to another young man, with a secretive grin. Tim needed to know if he had anymore of the drug on him in order to make a decision. It would be easier to call the cops and let them deal with the prick, but it wouldn’t do any good if Alan came up clean.

“What are you looking at?”

Tim started, realizing he’d been caught staring. “Nothing.”

Alan’s eyes narrowed. “That right?”

With a sinking feeling, Tim knew that the other man thought he’d seen the exchange. And then he had an idea. “Just a bit at loose ends, you know. The girl I was with took off to talk to some of her friends and kind of left me hanging.”

There was a moment where Tim was sure Alan would just shrug and walk away. If that was the case, his other option would be to find a more surreptitious way of searching him. Of course, if Alan was selling roofies to his frat brothers, it could have very easily been another guy that took advantage of Dawn.

To his relief, Alan made a face. “Sorry about that, man.”

Tim shrugged. “It’s no big deal. This is just the first date, so I wasn’t sure if it was going to work out anyway.”

Alan raised an eyebrow. “You’re letting her go pretty easy.”

“There are other fish in the sea,” Tim said, looking around the room appreciatively. “You here with somebody?”

Alan smirked. “Not yet. Like you said, there’s plenty of girls here tonight.” Seeing Tim’s empty hand, he asked, “You want something to drink?”

He was about to refuse, but then decided that alcohol was an excellent way to lower someone’s inhibitions. “Sure.”

An hour later, Tim was grateful that Emily seemed content to hang out with her friends, because he was feeling like he’d been swimming in raw sewage. Alan was everything he hated—a bully, an elitist, and worst of all a chauvinist. He had no problem using a girl for his own pleasure and then leaving her high and dry—and he liked to brag about his conquests.

After Alan seemed sufficiently drunk enough, Tim decided the time was right to ask the key question. “So what do you do if they won’t sleep with you?”

“What do you mean?” Alan said, his words slurring slightly. “They always want to sleep with me.”

“But what if they play hard to get?” Tim asked patiently. “You ever just cut one loose?”

Alan scoffed vociferously. They’d found their way to the den area of the frat house so that the man could talk freely. “Not without getting what I wanted first. There are ways. There was this one girl—Dawn—” He looked around to make certain they weren’t being overheard. “Can I trust you?”

It was about the stupidest question Tim had ever heard, but he let nothing show on his face except earnest interest. “Sure.”

Alan fished around in his pocket and brought out a little plastic sack, just like the one Tim had seen earlier. “Drop one of these into a girl’s drink, and she’ll do anything for you. It loosens her up so she won’t say no.”

‘She can’t say no, you bastard,’ Tim thought as he listened to the other man ramble on. He had a couple of choices. He could go after the guy right then. Tim knew he’d get a few hits in before anyone pulled him off. Of course, there was a good chance someone would call the cops, and given the fact that he was the outsider there, he’d be considered the instigator, Tim knew he would be the one to get arrested.

The other option was to call the cops and get _him_ arrested. That seemed like the better option at the moment.

Waiting until he had an opening, Tim informed Alan that he was going to visit the john and made good on his escape, relieved that he didn’t have to listen to that shit anymore.

Tim made his way through the crowd, looking for Emily. Once he found her, he pulled her away from her friends, ignoring their titters. “I need you to do me a favor,” he said in a low voice.

She frowned. “What?”

“There’s a guy here with a pocket full of roofies. I want you to call the cops, tell them you saw him with them, and that you know he’s planning on using them tonight.” Tim’s eyes bored into hers, and Emily looked a little frightened at his intensity. “Then we’re going to get out of here.”

Emily shook her head. “I can’t. What if they ask—”

“Tell them you’re worried about a friend, but you don’t want her to be mad at you,” Tim said, interrupting her. “Trust me. The cops will find a way to get in here. They’ll MIP half the crowd, and then they’ll search the guy with the evidence they got from the anonymous tip. Even if the evidence doesn’t hold up in court, it’ll be all over the papers, and that’s all I really care about.”

Emily frowned. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“When you’ve been where I have, you learn to know the law as well as the cops do,” Tim said with a wry smile. “Will you do it?”

She frowned, thinking about it. The guy in question was president of the fraternity, and very popular on campus. He was known to be something of a player, but she’d never suspected him of using roofies to get what he wanted. Emily hadn’t thought he would need to.

The very idea of someone drugging her and then—well, it freaked her out.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~~~

It had been a long, lonely week for Dawn. Other than going to classes and the occasional trip to the library or the Magic Box to study, she hadn’t gone anywhere. She had also discovered that most of her friends were drinking buddies; there was no one other than Spike and Tara that she could think of to call and talk to about what had happened.

Unbeknownst to her, Dawn hadn’t actually made any real friends in the last year or two. She could think of a few people from her freshman year that might have become true friends, but Dawn had let those relationships slide as she’d delved further into the party-girl scene. There might have even been people there that she could have counted on, but she hadn’t tried to develop those friendships.

Now the only person she could think to call was Tim, but Dawn felt uncomfortable doing so. He had been really nice, but she was afraid to grow too dependent upon him, to appear too needy, especially after the way she’d treated him.

Dawn had thought about hanging out with Tara or Spike, but the few times she had been around them in the last few days, they had been totally immersed in each other. While she couldn’t begrudge them their obvious happiness, it just seemed to highlight what a mess she had made of her own life.

She lay on her couch, curled up, letting the light from the TV flicker over her without really taking in what was playing. It was just reruns of shows she’d seen a hundred times, some of those times with her sister or her mom. Watching brought back memories Dawn would have rather left buried so that they didn’t hurt quite so much.

Dawn wanted to cry, but she didn’t have any tears left.

The soft knock on the door surprised her, and she looked through the peephole cautiously before unbolting the door. “What are you doing here?”

Tim shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by.”

Dawn stared at him. His piercings were gone, and he was dressed nicely—really nicely. The sleeves on his shirt were rolled up halfway, revealing his inked arms. “Why do you look like you fell into the Gap?”

“I had a party to go to tonight,” he said. “Can I come in?”

She blushed slightly. “Sure. I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m a little tired.”

“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” he commented.

“Sleep’s been kinda hard to come by these last few days.” Dawn sat on the couch, waiting until he was sitting next to her to ask, “Why did you come by, Tim?”

“The party I went to—” he began. “Spike asked me to go to. To find out what happened. I promised I’d give him the information, but I thought you had the right to be the first to know if you wanted.”

“I asked Spike to tell me,” Dawn said quietly. “If he found anything, I asked him to let me know. Did you—”

“The guy—Alan, right?—was there.” Tim’s voice was soft, gentle. “He was bragging about what happened, and he pulled out a bag of pills. I had someone call the cops. As far as I know, the cops are searching him right now. If nothing else, it’s going to be in the school paper.”

Dawn blanched. “Do they—will they know I—”

“Your name isn’t in it, Dawn. The only thing people are going to be talking about is the fact that he has to drug a girl to get them to sleep with him.” Tim smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the cops will actually get a possession charge to stick.”

Dawn shook her head. “It was really him,” she whispered.

“Yeah, it really was.” Tim hesitated and then put a wary hand on her shoulder, ready to snatch it back if it appeared as though he’d crossed a line. Instead of pulling away, Dawn leaned towards him, and Tim put his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Though her tears were all dried up, Dawn buried her face in his shoulder. She needed to be held, needed to feel someone’s arms around her. In that moment, she missed her mom with an intensity she found shocking, given how much time had passed since Joyce’s death. Dawn missed Buffy, too, knowing that her sister would have held her the same way Tim was doing now. Would have smoothed her hair back and promised her things were going to be okay, even if they both knew it was a lie.

She let Tim hold her, taking comfort in the embrace, even though it wasn’t the same.

But it was something.


	19. Chapter 19

**“In real love, you want the other person’s good. In romantic love you want the other person.” ~Margaret Anderson**

Dawn felt a moment of panic upon waking, realizing that she hadn’t gone to sleep in her own bed even though that’s where she found herself. With a sense of desperation, she tried to remember what had happened the night before. She had been watching TV, and Tim had come by, and he had told her what had happened at the party and then—

She let out her breath, figuring that she must have gone to sleep at some point on the couch. They hadn’t said much to one another. In fact, all Dawn really remembered was watching TV with her head on his shoulder. Tim had seemed to sense her need to not be alone, and yet to be silent.

When she emerged from her bedroom, Dawn immediately spotted Tim stretched out on the couch, one arm thrown over his face. His shoes and belt lay on the floor next to him, and he’d pulled the afghan off the back.

Dawn felt a flood of tenderness for him that was new. She had never honestly thought that Tim would be the kind of guy she’d fall for. She had always pictured herself as finding some college guy, maybe pre-law or pre-med. They would finish their degrees together, and have careers. Or maybe he would have been a business major. The main point was that he’d be handsome and successful and intelligent.

Tim was handsome and intelligent, but he wasn’t in school, and he’d never given any indication of being interested in getting a degree. His tattoos made it fairly apparent that he wasn’t interested in the traditional sense of success, that he belonged to a different world.

Dawn suddenly wanted to be a part of his world with an aching intensity. She wanted him to like her.

A groan startled Dawn out of her thoughts. Tim sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Hey, Dawn,” he mumbled. “Hope you didn’t mind me staying. It was pretty late.”

“No, it’s okay,” Dawn replied. “Thanks. For staying, you know.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. It didn’t seem like you wanted to be alone.”

“I didn’t.”

He stood. “I get that.” Stifling a yawn, Tim reached for his belt. “I called Spike last night after you fell asleep and let him know what happened. I think Tara’s cooking dinner tonight if you want to come over.”

“That would be nice,” Dawn replied. “It’s—it gets too quiet here.”

Tim remembered long afternoons and evenings of being at home alone while his parents were at work. He understood how empty a place could become when you were the only one there. “So what are you doing this weekend?” he asked. “Next week’s Spring Break, right?”

Dawn shrugged. “I think I passed the make up tests, but I still have those projects to work on, and I have at least two papers that I should write. It’s going to be a pretty busy week.”

He shrugged. “Well, if you want to hang out sometime, I can always bring a book. I don’t mind just hanging with you while you do homework or whatever.”

It was about the sweetest offer anyone had ever made. Dawn had never had anyone make an offer like that before. “Tim—I don’t know.”

Tim frowned. “What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know if we should do this.”

“Do what?” Tim asked. He stiffened slightly. “Is this the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech? Because if it is—”

“No!” Dawn said quickly, hating that it had come out so wrong. “I mean, yes. Sort of. It’s just that I don’t think I can do anything other than friendship right now. It’s not you, really, it’s—”

“You,” he said, his jaw tightening. “Don’t sweat it. Friends is great.”

“Except it really isn’t,” Dawn said. “I want us to be friends, Tim, but that doesn’t mean I’m ruling anything else out. In fact, I’d be happy if it turned into something more. I just—I don’t want to lead you on and make you think I’m ready for something that I’m not. But that’s now.”

Tim stared at her. “You’re saying…”

“That I really like you, and I want to get to know you better,” Dawn said as clearly as she was able. “But that I need some time before it gets romantic.” She blushed. “If that’s even where you were going. That probably sounded really self-centered. I’m sorry. I just assumed. I should have—”

He silenced her with a gentle finger on her lips. “I like you too, Dawn, and I want to get to know you better. As for where this is going, we’ll go as slow as you want. I’ve got time.”

“Why can’t all guys be like you?” Dawn asked plaintively.

Tim, knowing it was a rhetorical question, simply brushed her hair back from her face. “So I’ll see you tonight at Tara’s?”

“For sure,” Dawn replied, feeling the brush of lips on her forehead before he left. His sweetness warmed her to the core.

~~~~~

The shop was usually quiet in the morning, with only the occasional customer dropping in. Spike had pretty much refused to let Tara out of his sight for the past few days, preferring instead to hang about the shop with her. While Tara had never hated her job, having Spike there illuminated just how boring things had been without him around.

At the moment, she was going through the previous day’s receipts while Spike glanced through the morning paper. It was such a domestic scene, one Tara had never thought to find the vampire a part of, but she was grateful that he was there.

“Anything interesting?” she asked, knowing what Tim had said the previous night.

Spike grunted, flipped a page, then got a satisfied smirk on his face. “’s on page three. Drug bust on campus. They didn’t release his name, but I’ll bet that Tim’s friend puts it in the school paper.”

Tara came over to stand behind him so she could browse the article. The story went on to give some statistics on what rohypnol was typically used for and how often it showed up, as well as tips for women to prevent being taken advantage of. “Are you still going to go after him?”

Spike gave her an incredulous look. “Just because they arrested the git doesn’t mean he won’t do it again. I plan on makin’ sure he believes I’m goin’ to be right around every corner for the rest of his bleedin’ life.”

Tara had a hard time arguing with that. Now that they knew both that Dawn really had been drugged and that it had been Alan, she was much less inclined to prevent Spike from going after the boy.

He was a bully, and Tara had never liked bullies.

“As long as you leave him in one piece,” she cautioned.

Spike grinned. “He’ll survive. More than that, ‘m not goin’ to promise.”

She sighed, shaking her head, deciding that it wasn’t worth it to argue the point. As long as Spike didn’t kill him. The ringing of the phone had her leaving his side. “The Magic Box. This is Tara. How may I—”

The voice on the other end was eminently familiar. “Hello, Tara.”

“Giles!” She hadn’t heard from Giles in a couple of weeks. They tried to touch base at least once a month, but the Watcher had largely left the running of the store in her capable hands. “How are you?”

“Quite well, thank you,” he replied. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s good to hear from you.”

A little more warmth edged into his tone. “Likewise, Tara. I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve called. The Council has kept me busy these last weeks.”

They made small talk for the next few minutes, exchanging news and shoptalk. Tara had told him about Spike returning and hiring Tim not long after they had arrived in Sunnydale. Although Giles had voiced his doubts, in the end he’d allowed her to do what she liked.

Tara had no desire to hide her relationship with Spike from the older man. Even though she respected him a great deal, Tara had struggled too hard to become her own person to truly care what he thought. Or, even though she might care, it wasn’t going to keep her from doing something she felt was right for her.

Even so, she wasn’t in a huge hurry to let Giles know that she was with Spike now either. It wasn’t really any of his business.

“How is Dawn?” Giles asked after a few minutes. “I know you said you had some concerns about her last time we talked.” Tara bit her lip, not knowing how much to tell him. Catching her hesitation, and correctly guessing the reasons behind it, Giles asked, “What happened?”

“She’s been in some trouble,” Tara finally said slowly. “I think she’s trying to make some changes though. It’s not really something I feel as though I should tell you about.”

Tara knew that he had probably pulled off his glasses and was cleaning them on the other end. “I see. Well, I suppose this might be the time to let you know that I’m coming back to Sunnydale on a visit.”

“When will you be here?”

“I’ll be arriving in a week,” Giles replied. “I should probably also tell you now that Willow won’t be joining me.”

Tara was quiet for a moment. “Any reason?”

“She said she didn’t want to interrupt her studies, but I have the sense that she feels it’s too great a risk at this time. Willow still isn’t quite ready to face—Sunnydale.”

Willow wasn’t quite ready to face her, Tara knew, and for the moment she felt only relief. “Tell her that we’ll miss her, but that we understand.”

“Have you spoken to Xander recently?” Giles asked.

His question surprised her, since the Watcher rarely asked after Xander. “No, why?”

“Anya will be accompanying me, and I realize that it might make for some awkwardness if Xander was present.”

The embarrassed note in Giles’ voice caught Tara’s attention, and the truth hit her immediately. “I won’t mention it if I see him, if that’s what you’d like.”

“That might be for the best,” Giles replied quietly. “How is Spike?”

“He’s good,” Tara said, biting her lip to hold back the giggle at that double entendre. “He’s pretty busy keeping the Hellmouth in check.”

There was a long pause, and then Giles said, sounding terribly reluctant, “Please let him know that I’d like to talk to talk to him while I’m in town. I have a few things I’d like to discuss.”

“Of course,” Tara replied, quickly saying her goodbyes.

“What’s the Watcher want?” Spike asked once she’d hung up.

Tara sighed. “He’s coming to town.”

“Well, won’t that be awkward,” Spike muttered sarcastically.

Tara walked over to him, tipping up his chin with gentle fingers. “I love you,” she said. “Giles being in town doesn’t change anything. I’m an adult now, and fully capable of deciding who I want to be with.”

It sounded almost too good to be true, but Spike decided against arguing with her. “Love you too, Tara.”

She could still see the doubt in his eyes, and although she knew where it came from, it still hurt. Tara wondered if Spike would ever completely trust in her love for him.

~~~~~

For the first time in days, Tim and Spike were home at the same time. “You and Tara have been hanging out a lot,” Tim said knowingly as they entered the apartment after having dinner at Tara’s.

Spike was silent for a moment before saying reluctantly, “Yeah. We’re—”

“Together?” Tim asked, sounding amused. “Spike, it’s obvious that she really digs you.”

Spike shrugged. “She said she loved me.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “You guys are in love?” He grinned. “That’s great.” At Spike’s silence, he frowned. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Spike allowed. “But—Buffy’s Watcher is comin’ to town.”

“And you’re afraid she’s going to dump you when that happens?” the boy asked. “Tara’s not that kind of girl. If she says she loves you, she means it.”

“What about you an’ Dawn?” Spike asked, quickly changing the subject. “You two seemed fairly cozy tonight.”

Tim shrugged. It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “We’re just friends. Dawn said she wanted to take things slow, you know?”

“She said that?” The vampire raised an eyebrow. “That typically means it’s goin’ somewhere after then.”

“Maybe,” Tim said doubtfully. “I don’t think I’m her type.”

“I don’t think Dawn knows what ‘her type’ is,” Spike said, his lips twisting into a half smile. “Speakin’ of Dawn, ‘m goin’ huntin’ tonight. Might see if I could hunt up that bastard that slipped somethin’ in her drink. You wanna come with me?”

Tim had to think about it for all of two seconds. “Will you let me get a hit in?”

“I think that could be arranged.”


	20. Chapter 20

**“Love won’t be tampered with, love won’t go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.” ~Louise Erdrich**

Alan was not having the best of days. It had taken his parents almost twelve hours to find a lawyer to bond him out. Spending that time in a jail cell was not his idea of a good time. He’d spent the day answering questions and trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next. The worst part was that the lawyer was urging him to plead guilty, hoping for a possession charge, rather than an accusation of intent to distribute.

There didn’t seem to be any way around the charges. The police had cause to search him, and they had found a bag full of roofies. His parents hadn’t even wanted to talk to him they were so furious—more that he’d gotten caught than anything else most likely.

Alan’s day was about to get worse.

They had released him about an hour after dark. His lawyer had offered Alan a ride home, which he had refused. Alan wanted to walk to clear his head. He’d never expected to get caught. It was supposed to have been a fool-proof plan. Dawn wouldn’t remember anything, the only witnesses were the other guys in the frat house, and they weren’t going to snitch on him.

Well, at least they couldn’t get him for rape, which was the more serious offense.

Alan let out a yelp of surprise when a hand snuck out of the darkness and yanked him back into an alley. A strong forearm pressed against his throat, slamming him back up against the brick. “Time to pay the piper, mate.”

He stared into yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. “Who—what are you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare,” the creature replied. “You hurt somethin’ that’s mine.”

“Yours?” Alan managed to squeak. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Girl named Dawn,” another voice said, drifting out of the darkness. Alan heard a low growl. “You hurt her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he protested. “I don’t know any girl named Dawn.”

“That’s not what you were saying the other night.” The boy who had been at the party stepped out of the darkness, a yellow dog by his side. The dog had its teeth bared, and the boy had a switchblade in hand. “In fact, I remember you said you had a fool-proof method to get a girl to give it up.”

Alan tried to squirm free, realizing that he was out-matched and that he had spilled his secret to exactly the wrong person. “You were the guy that got me arrested.”

“That’s not technically accurate,” Tim replied. “I’m not the one who called the cops.”

He moved closer, and the blade glinted in the dim light. “What are you going to do?” Alan demanded. “You hurt me, and I’ll call the cops. I’ll tell them you assaulted me.”

“Really?” Spike asked, and Alan’s eyes were pulled back towards the vampire. “You’re goin’ to tell the cops—what? That you got attacked by a barbeque fork?” He grinned, showing his fangs. “Because that’s the only thing they’re going to believe. Police around here don’t believe in vampires.”

Alan looked from to the other, the seriousness of the situation dawning on him. They could kill him, and no one would ever know the truth. “You don’t want to do this,” he said. “It’s not like you wouldn’t have done the same thing. The girl’s a cock-tease!”

He was trying to reach a sense of male solidarity, having never met a guy who wouldn’t use a woman if he had the chance. Alan didn’t have a sister, or a female friend he felt protective of. In fact, one might say that the protective gene had been completely left out of his makeup.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t leave you with a cock to tease,” Tim suggested, flipping his knife meaningfully.

“You’re both monsters!” Alan exclaimed.

Spike bared his teeth in a growl reminiscent of the one Luz was emitting. “Maybe, but we’ve made lookin’ after Dawn Summers our business. I find out you’ve ever pulled somethin’ like this again, I’ll make sure you die a slow an’ painful death. An’ I’ll let my friend here castrate you first.”

“In fact, if I find out you’ve laid a hand on any woman, I’ll geld you and be happy to do it,” Tim warned, flicking his knife blade back down. His fist shot out without warning, breaking Alan’s nose and sending his head slamming back into the wall.

And with that, they both proceeded to beat him to a bloody pulp.

~~~~~

Normally a spot of violence cheered Spike up no end, but Tim thought the vampire seemed more depressed on the way back to the apartment.

Tim couldn’t find it in his heart to feel bad about what they had done. Really, Alan had gotten off easy. If they’d had a chance in hell at getting a rape conviction, Tim would have rather seen the young man go to jail, since he’d be paying for his crime for years. Instead, he got a beating and no permanent damage. In a few weeks, Alan would be completely healed and the night would merely be a memory.

As far as Spike was concerned, Tim didn’t understand why beating Alan up would have upset him. They had gotten revenge for Dawn, and Alan wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like that again any time soon. Tim wouldn’t be surprised if he left Sunnydale altogether. He’d need to if he ever wanted to get a date again.

When they returned to the apartment, and Spike still seemed morose, Tim decided to ask him about it. “Spike? You okay?”

“’m fine,” Spike replied shortly, heading straight to the kitchen for something to eat.

Tim watched as the vampire fished a mug out of the sink, rinsed it out, and starting heating his blood up. “That’s probably not the most sanitary method,” he pointed out. “You could get a clean one from the cupboard.”

“Vampire here,” Spike said in an unnecessary reminder. “’s not like ‘m goin’ to get sick.”

Tim frowned. He wasn’t stupid. There were only two reasons that Spike brought up the fact that he was a vampire these days. One was to make a joke out of things he could or couldn’t do. The other was when Spike was being defensive about something. If he had to guess, Tim would say it was the latter.

“I’ve known you for what? Five years now?” Tim asked, waiting until Spike grunted an affirmation. “So I know when something is bugging you.” Something clicked. “It’s not because Alan called you a monster, is it? Because I was included in that.”

“That’s not it,” Spike replied, but the set of his shoulders told Tim that he might be close. “Was just—forget it.”

Tim strode into the kitchen and grabbed Spike by the arm. “I’m not going to forget it. If something he said bothered you—or if you’re regretting taking the piss out of him, just tell me, but don’t let that loser rent space in your head.”

“What he said, ‘bout us doin’ the same in his place,” Spike began slowly. “He’s right.”

Tim took a step back, surprised. “What are you talking about? If a girl’s being a tease, you just walk away. That’s all there is to it.”

“I didn’t mean he was right ‘bout you,” Spike replied hoarsely. “He was right about me.”

Tim shook his head. “No. No way. I don’t know—is this before the soul?”

“Buffy—” Spike said, then found himself unable to go on. He’d never spoken of this before. Tara knew, but not because he’d had to tell the story. Tim knew something had happened to cause him to pursue the soul, but not exactly what it was.

Spike wasn’t sure he could say the words aloud.

“Yeah, it was before the soul,” Spike finally managed. “It was—it was why I went after it. After—I couldn’t face it. Hated myself.”

Tim sat down at their makeshift kitchen table. He could hear Luz whining in the background as she sensed the tension. It felt as though his world had just turned upside down. Tim had known, at least in theory, that Spike had not always been a nice guy. The idea that he would rape someone was unfathomable to him, though.

“You raped Buffy.” His tone was flat.

Spike shook his head, knowing that Tim would probably hate him after this, but he felt a need to get it off his chest, to reveal that he wasn’t the hero Tim believed him to be. Even though Tim’s respect meant the world to him. “No,” Spike said wearily. “We were—we’d been in a relationship, an’ things got rough. She’d beat up on me, I’d beat up on her. She broke things off, an’ I slept with one of her friends. I went to apologize, things got out of hand, and she kicked me off. I never wanted to hurt her, an’ instead I end up just like that wanker we beat up on tonight.”

Spike was shocked to find himself spun around and slammed up against the wall. He hadn’t been paying attention, and Tim had moved too quickly for him to defend himself. The surprise held him stationary, although his fangs flashed in an involuntary response. Spike’s face returned to its human form almost immediately. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to that bastard,” Tim hissed. “You are nothing like him.”

“I—”

“You nothing!” Tim shot back. “You just friggin’ told me that you didn’t do anything!”

“I wanted to!” Spike burst out, saying the words he’d never been able to utter. They were nose to nose now and yelling. The vampire couldn’t remember arguing with Tim like this before. “I wanted to prove that we still had a connection!”

“And then you left to get your soul!” Tim retorted. “Shit, Spike! Did you see an ounce of guilt or remorse on that dick-wad’s face? And he has a soul! He wanted us to think it was okay for him to rape a girl he’d been out with a few times. You felt guilty about losing it with a girl who pushed you to the edge.”

Tim released him abruptly. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Spike? You made me what I am. Without you, I would never have made it past sixteen. You showed me that I was worth something. You showed me what it means to be a man. I know you, and you don’t have that kind of darkness in you. Not anymore.”

Spike slumped back against the counter. “I just—I could see myself in him. What he said—”

“Was a lie,” Tim said bluntly. “You’re not a monster, and you don’t go around taking advantage of women. Whatever happened back then, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I know who you are now, and if you think something like that is going to change how I see you, you’re just stupid.”

Spike huffed out a breathless sort of laugh. “You win. I’m bein’ a ponce for even listenin’ to him.”

“Yeah, you are,” Tim replied. “Look, Spike, you’re not Alan. You’re not those guys in the alley either. If it wasn’t for you…”

Spike managed a small smile. “I know, Tim. Got some regrets about what I’ve done in the past, but none of ‘em concern you.”

Tim ducked his head. “Yeah, well, just as long as you know that you’re not Alan, and you’re not anything like him. We all screw up, Spike.”

“Maybe so, but I wish I’d gotten the chance to tell the Slayer I was sorry,” Spike said quietly. “Never got that chance.”

~~~~~

_Spike walked down the halls of the high school, feeling a bit strange. He’d never imagined being the responsible party in a situation like this._

After all, Spike was usually the one starting the fights.

Even so, he was grateful that the school had sewer access, and that it was early winter. The sun would set shortly, which would make getting back to the apartment that much easier. Spike wasn’t sure he was up to explaining to the school officials why Tim’s guardian couldn’t be in direct sunlight.

Tim was in the principal’s office, slumped in a chair, one side of his face rapidly swelling. The boy glanced up briefly as Spike entered, but said nothing, choosing to look back down at the floor again. “You okay, Tim?”

Tim shrugged, still refusing to speak. Spike chose to ignore the secretary in favor of getting some answers from his young ward. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“Why?” Tim muttered. “They’re just going to tell you something different. It’s not like anybody listens to me anyway.”

Tim was wearing his best sullen-teen expression. It was probably a good thing that Spike knew all about what sullen often meant. With Tim, at least, it was typically a defense mechanism, used to disguise hurt and fear. The boy was usually so easy-going, Spike knew something had to have happened to provoke him into starting a fight.

“You want to tell me why you hit him?” Spike pressed. “Might help if I got your side before I have to talk to the lady in charge.”

“I didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at me,” Tim sneered, but as he did so, he met Spike’s eyes for the first time since the vampire had entered. Spike knew then that his instincts were right. The pain in the boy’s eyes was matched only by his fear.

“Mr. Benton?” The secretary finally managed to get his attention. “The principal will see you now.” Spike rose, looking over at Tim, and the woman interpreted his look. “Just you. Tim can wait out here.”

The man that met him was just the kind of guy Spike loved to tweak—big, serious, and looking like he’d be able to give Angel a run for his money in the brooding department. He introduced himself as Dr. Ward and began explaining why he was going to expel Tim. “We have a zero-tolerance policy for fighting in this school.”

“What about the other kid?” Spike asked evenly.

Dr. Ward raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Tim’s face is black an’ blue,” Spike pointed out. “If you’re goin’ to expel one, you’d better kick ‘em both out.”

“He started the fight,” Dr. Ward explained smoothly. “We don’t put up with behavior like that in this school.”

Spike frowned, feeling as though he was talking to a brick wall. “Fine. Let’s just get the lad in here, an’ he can give us his side of the story.” The vampire was ready to scare the bastard into allowing Tim to stay, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. Actions like that would most likely end up making Tim’s life even more miserable. “Tim, come in here for a minute.”

The boy entered, looking angry and rebellious, which Spike knew wouldn’t help his case any. Spike really didn’t care, however. The important thing was to get to the truth. Even if the principal didn’t listen to reason, it would be fine. Spike would find another school, come up with a different plan.

“I want you to explain what happened.” Spike was using his best no-nonsense voice now, the same one he’d used to control his minions, just with a little more kindness behind it.

For a moment, he was certain that Tim was going to remain stubbornly silent, but the boy finally muttered something that even vampire-hearing didn’t allow him to catch. “Say it again, lad.”

“He called me a fag,” Tim said, louder this time. As Spike had hoped, once he’d gotten started, the rest of the truth came out as well. “He said I was a flaming queer.”

By the look on Dr. Ward’s face, the rules of the game had just changed, even though the man was still trying to come out clean. “That hardly excuses you attacking him, even if you were provoked.”

Tim muttered something more, and then repeated himself before Spike could admonish him. “He asked me if I would blow him, and wondered what the going rate was.”

There was a long silence, and then Spike said quietly, “I think it might be wise to rethink expellin’ him if you don’t want this school known for bein’ a place that allows bullyin’ an’ rampant homophobia.”

“That—sheds a different light on things,” Dr. Ward finally responded. “I’ll speak with the other boy involved, of course.”

There was more discussion after that about appropriate punishments and lectures on how violence was never a good choice. The meeting took long enough that the sun had disappeared from the sky by the time they managed to leave.

Spike and Tim walked a full fifteen minutes in silence before the boy finally asked, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I almost got kicked out of school.”

Spike snorted. “Please. If I were you, I’d have done a bit more than blacken his eye. Git had it comin’ to him.”

Tim blinked. His parents had been furious the one time they’d been called to the school to pick him up. A boy had tried to beat him up at recess, and he had ended up being the one sent to the principal’s office. At the time, his parents hadn’t even bothered to find out his side of the story, too concerned with how his behavior would reflect on them. “You’re not mad.”

Spike stopped, halting Tim’s movement with a gentle hand. “’Course I’m mad. That bloody idiot needed a good beatin’, and I wish you’d had time to do more damage. I’m not mad at you. You’re doin’ the best you can, Tim. In case you were wonderin’, I’ve seen it. No one else might, but I do.”

“I just—” Tim stared down at his worn sneakers. “I never wanted anyone to find out.”

Spike smiled sadly. “People find things out. If it makes you feel any better, I doubt the kid really knows. He was just tryin to push your buttons, an’ he stumbled on what works.”

“Dr. Ward was going to expel me,” Tim said softly. “He wouldn’t even listen.”

“’m always gonna listen,” Spike promised. “You just keep tryin’.”

“What if it’s not good enough?” It was his fear speaking now—his deep-seated fear that Spike would leave him just as everyone else had.

Spike sighed. “Sometimes our best isn’t good enough, but it’s all we’ve got. An’ it will always be good enough for me.”

~~~~~

Dawn tucked into the sandwich Tara had brought hungrily. “Thanks, Tara,” she said around a mouthful of food.

“It’s my pleasure, Dawnie,” the other woman replied, beginning to eat her own lunch. She’d given Tim the day off. Spike had called her after they’d returned home after chasing down Alan and had told her what they had done. Tara was simply grateful that they hadn’t killed the man. Whether he deserved it or not, it wasn’t a good idea for Spike or Tim to christen themselves his executioner.

Dawn bit her lip. “Do you—How do you make a guy like you?”

“I don’t think you can, Dawnie,” Tara replied gently. “That has to come from the other person. It’s not something that you can force.” She hesitated. “Is this—about Tim?”

Dawn blushed, which was reply enough for the older woman. “I know he likes me,” she said awkwardly. “It’s just I don’t know if he’s just being nice, or if he _likes_ me, likes me.”

“Do you want him to like you?” Tara asked.

Dawn bit her lip. “Who wouldn’t?” It was the question of a girl who had already half in love. As accurate as the question might be, given Tim’s character, it revealed Dawn’s growing affections. “Every guy I see, I have to wonder,” she said quietly. “I have to wonder if they wouldn’t do the same as Alan did, given the chance. And I don’t know. That’s the worst part of it, Tara. I don’t know about any of them, except for Tim, because he could have taken advantage of me, and he didn’t.”

“It’s not something you can ever know, Dawnie,” Tara said gently. “Not until you get to know someone’s heart. You just—you have to be careful.”

Dawn managed a shaky smile. “Do you think Tim will ever like me?”

Tara stroked the girl’s hair lovingly. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t, sweetie. You’re very lovable.”

For that moment, at least, it was nothing but the truth.


	21. Chapter 21

**“There is a place you can touch a woman that will drive her crazy. Her heart.” ~Melanie Griffith in _Milk Money_**

It was an entirely domestic scene, and Spike had never pictured himself here. Nor had he believed that he would actually enjoy something like this. Even while pursuing Buffy, Spike had never pictured them _together_ in any real sense of the word.

He had been too scared to hope for it at the time.

Besides, who wanted a tame vamp? Buffy certainly hadn’t. She’d wanted something dark, something wild. Something she could punish herself with, and Spike had been that. He’d given her what she wanted because he hadn’t realized what she had really needed.

Spike had settled down a bit with Tim, mainly out of necessity. The boy had needed someone who was relatively stable; he’d needed to eat at regular intervals, and to go to school, and just to have a routine in general. Even the relative freedom of the open road had been more structured than Spike typically wanted his life to be, as there had still been hotels to stay in and meals to purchase.

In reality, however, it had nothing to do with Tim and everything to do with the soul. When you no longer snatch every meal off the street, planning had to go into where those meals were coming from. Blood had to be purchased in advance, and you had to have a place to store it. While all of that was as much the chip’s doing as the soul’s, Spike had felt the bits of William he’d buried come rising to the surface again.

Although, to be fair, William wouldn’t have had the least idea what to do with the darkness and horror that Tim had come out of.

This thing with Tara, though—she seemed to want all of him. The tamed and the untamed, the vampire and the man, the monster with a soul. It seemed impossible, too good to be true, and Spike kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It hadn’t. Yet.

Dawn and Tim were in the living room, studying and reading, respectively. Tara was washing dishes while he dried them in companionable silence. It should have been a perfect evening, but the little niggling doubts that he’d managed to keep in the back of his mind were buzzing now.

“Tara-luv?”

She knew by his tone that something was off. He had that worried-vulnerable note in his voice, the one that heralded a return of the man that he’d been. It was what often reminded her that Spike was not _just_ a vampire, that he was something more. It was what often cued her guilt, knowing how he’d been treated by the Scoobies, and she’d done nothing to stop it, to mitigate the estrangement he must have felt.

“Yes, Spike?” Tara finished rinsing the last plate and handed it to him, noting that he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Do you—” He glanced back towards the living room. “Do you mind if I have a smoke?”

She shook her head. “I’ll join you.”

They sat in the dark on the back steps, under the stars. Spring in California tended to be warm, and this night was no exception. A pleasant breeze caught Tara’s long hair, sending it fluttering around her face. “What’s up?” she finally asked, when it seemed obvious that Spike wouldn’t start the conversation.

He was silent for so long that she began to doubt that he’d ever open up to her. “Can I—can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

The silence stretched out between them, uncomfortable in a way that Tara hadn’t thought it would be again. “Why me?” The question was almost plaintive. “I don’t get it, Glinda. Not that I’m complainin’, but I thought you fancied girls.”

Questions about sexuality were never easy to answer, at least not for her. It wasn’t that Tara was unsure of herself as a woman, it was just that she didn’t have the words for what she felt. How do you define love? How could you control with whom you fell in love? Spike, for all his cocky arrogance, was terribly insecure, and he deserved at least an attempt at an answer.

“Normally you would be right,” Tara began carefully. “I do prefer women, but that doesn’t mean…” She trailed off, trying to explain what defied reason. “It’s not so much about the package. It’s about what’s inside.”

She stole a look at him, watching his profile, the dim glow of the cigarette in the darkness. “Does it matter why?” Tara asked quietly. “I fell in love with _you_—who you are. It isn’t about you being a man or a woman, or a vampire. It’s about—you.” She sighed. “I’m not explaining this very well.”

“No,” Spike replied quietly. “You’re doin’ fine. It’s just that—I don’t understand. No one’s ever loved me back before, an’ I didn’t think you’d even be interested in me.”

Tara wondered at the bravery that lay behind those words—the persistence it had taken for Spike to continue hoping, to continue trying. To open himself to Tim, to Dawn, to her, knowing the rejection that he might face. It made him even more beautiful to her eyes. With a gentle touch, Tara drew his face to hers for a sweet kiss. “I love _you_,” Tara said firmly. “Nothing is going to change my mind. Not you being a vampire, not you being a man.”

It was everything Spike had ever wanted, and her assurance went a long way towards making him feel more secure. He still had wounds, still had doubts and insecurities that he thought might be bone-deep at this point. Perhaps it didn’t matter so much, however, not when Tara was as stable as they came.

Spike often wondered if he hadn’t used up all his strength on Buffy.

He scooted closer to Tara on the step, reaching out and entwining his fingers with hers. Though he was usually so good with words, Spike couldn’t quite find the language to adequately express his gratitude—or his love. Instead, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand and settled down into companionable silence.

Tara, who understood perfectly, simply laid her head on his shoulder.

~~~~~

“I miss Mom,” Dawn said suddenly. Spike had insisted on driving her home after dinner at Tara’s, and she had protested, saying that she needed to pick up some necessities at the store. Spike, in return, had insisted both on accompanying her and paying for them. As grateful as Dawn was, she almost wished that Tim had been the one to insist, but he had needed to get home since he was the one opening the Magic Box the next morning.

Dawn’s comment had come out of nowhere in the middle of the cereal aisle, and Spike looked over at her in surprise—not at the sentiment, but at the seeming incongruity. She caught his look and quickly explained. “It’s just—shopping for cereal was always this huge deal, you know? Mom never wanted us to get anything with too much sugar, and Buffy and I never liked the same kind, so we’d always argue. And then Mom would get mad at us and just give in and buy us whatever we could agree on.” She held a box of Lucky Charms up. “Buffy never let me get Lucky Charms. She didn’t like the little marshmallows.”

“Your sis was never a big fan of those, as I recall,” Spike replied softly. He hesitated for a moment. “How are you, Niblet?”

“I’m okay.” She smiled at him, although her eyes held a gravity that had not been there until recently. “I still don’t remember anything, so it’s hard to believe that it really happened. I’m glad—I’m glad you stopped him.”

Spike frowned. “Don’t think he’ll be tryin’ anythin’ like that again.”

“I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” Dawn said gently. “He’s not worth it. But I’m glad you stopped him.” She chuckled a little. “The best part is that it’s all over campus. Everybody’s talking about it, and no one wants to admit they’re friends with him. They’re all like, ‘Well, I hung with him a little, but I always knew he was a sleaze-bag.’”

“Sounds about like what people will do,” Spike acknowledged. “Hindsight’s always 20/20.”

Dawn sighed. “Do you ever wish you hadn’t left?”

It was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one. If Spike hadn’t left, things would have been different, but not necessarily for the better. He had the feeling that it could hardly have been for the better. As much as he might have wanted to lie, Spike found himself unable. “No,” he replied simply. “It was bad there at the end, Bit. I won’t tell you how bad, but it was—it was killin’ the both of us. If I hadn’t left, it would have been worse, an’ Tim…”

“Tim needed you.” There was simple acknowledgement in Dawn’s voice, and acceptance. “He was hurt really badly, wasn’t he, Spike?”

“Yeah, he was.” Spike glanced over at her, wondering where the girl was going with her line of questioning.

Dawn nodded, almost to herself. “That’s what I thought.” She met Spike’s eyes. “I really like him,” she confessed.

In her face, Spike caught a hint of the maturity he’d known was there, hiding under the layers of hurt and betrayal. Growing up wasn’t always about time; sometimes it was about trials by fire that tested your very mettle.

Dawn had been tested, and it looked like she would pull through, and that she might be wiser for it. Spike nodded. “Thought you might.”

“Do you think—” Dawn hesitated. Sometimes she wondered if a man would ever love her, knowing what had happened. There were moments when she felt used, dirty, and thought that everyone else must see her the same way. There were other moments when she hated every guy she saw with a passion, seeing him as a potential perpetrator.

The good days were the ones where she could find some happy medium.

Spike, who had heard the very same question come out of Tim’s mouth, slung an arm around Dawn’s shoulders. “One of these days you’ll meet your Prince Charming, luv,” he assured her. “He might not be quite what you thought you wanted, but he’ll be what you need, an’ that’s the most important thing in the end.”

“Is Tara what you need?” Dawn asked, in one of her flashes of intuition that came all too infrequently.

Spike looked surprised at the question, and then he smiled slightly. “Think she might be.”

~~~~~

Xander had been surprised to see Spike and Dawn entering the store together. He hadn’t talked with Dawnie in a while, but the last time he had, the girl had seemed less than enthusiastic about Spike’s return. He’d believed that Dawn was over her childish infatuation with the vampire, that she had finally come to see Spike for what he really was.

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

He sidled up closer, wary of being seen, but still wanting to know what they had to talk about. Xander still couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to talk to Spike, to be with Spike. Couldn’t anyone else see how dangerous he was?

Couldn’t they see that he was nothing more than a parasite?

He tightened his grip on the case of beer and the basket of groceries. He didn’t need much; most days he ate out anyway.

Xander was beginning to detest being inside his own skin. If he wasn’t working, he was reliving the glory days of high school, when he and Buffy and Willow had been a team. When things had been good.

In his mind, Xander had built up a past where even their fights held more joy than his average day. He conveniently forgot how bitterly the gang had split over Angel’s return, or how difficult Angelus had made things. In Xander’s mind, things had been so much better back then.

He’d at least had a purpose.

It now struck him as terribly unfair that even Dawn seemed happier now. She was supposed to be mourning Buffy too. The Slayer’s death wasn’t something you just got over. And Spike—the vampire had claimed to love her, but now he was moving on.

With Tara. It was a harsh betrayal. Xander wondered if Willow knew, and what she would do if she did. Or if Giles knew that Spike was back. The Watcher probably wouldn’t appreciate Spike being in the Magic Box all the time; he never had in the past.

Xander wondered for the thousandth time if he shouldn’t inform Giles or Willow of what was going on. Surely they would do something. Surely they would understand how badly Buffy’s memory was being violated.

Surely they would understand…

~~~~~

Dawn ran a hand through her hair, breathing a sigh of relief. This might have been the Spring Break that wasn’t, but she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Her papers had been written, one major project was out of the way with another half-done, and she had managed to catch up on all her reading. It was Friday, so she still had another few days to finish things up.

It wasn’t all that long till summer break, anyway. While she was planning on working part time, at least classes would be over and there wouldn’t be any homework. That was a big plus, even if Dawn didn’t have that many friends to be spending long, hot summer days with.

The knock at the door caught her by surprise, and she checked the peephole cautiously before opening it. “Tim, what’s up?”

“I’m kidnapping you,” he replied without preamble. “Get your swimming suit and whatever else you’re going to need.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I’m kidnapping you, and I’m not taking no for an answer,” he replied easily. When Dawn still didn’t appear to be budging, his tone turned wheedling. “Come on, Dawn. You’ve been cooped up in your apartment all week. You deserve a break before your brain dribbles out your ears.”

Dawn hesitated before asking, “What are we going to be doing?”

“It’s just a few of us,” he assured her. “We’re going to build a bonfire on the beach, swim, whatever. Luz is coming, so you’ll probably have to throw the frisbee for her a few hundred times. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun” sounded foreign after the last year Dawn had had. Even the parties she’d attended weren’t really fun—more like desperate attempts to escape a life that seemed far too horribly short. “I don’t know, Tim. They’re your friends, and—”

“They could be your friends too, if you gave them a chance,” he pointed out reasonably. “Look, Dawn, I know you needed some time away from everything, but you can’t hide out forever. Just try it. If you’re not having a good time, I’ll bring you right home. I promise.”

He was as good as his word, Dawn knew. If she hated it, Tim would bring her home without recrimination. She didn’t want to hate it, though. Tim was offering her access to his world, his friends. If Dawn wanted their relationship to be something beyond friendship, she would have to be willing to step out of her comfort zone, go where she normally didn’t.

Of course, her comfort zone had gotten her drugged and raped, so that wasn’t so comfy either.

“Okay,” she said, trying to sound bold and ready for anything. “That sounds like it could be fun.”

Tim just grinned at her. “Trust me, Dawn. It’s going to be great.”

The funny thing was, Dawn really did trust him.


	22. Chapter 22

**“Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix.” ~Christina Baldwin**

Like any good southern California girl, Dawn had several different swimming suits to choose between. She chose the least revealing of these and threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Tim was still waiting patiently when she came out of her bedroom, a large tote thrown over her shoulder. “Do I need to bring anything to eat?” It wasn’t quite lunch yet, and Dawn wasn’t sure what he had planned.

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got it taken care of. The only thing you need to bring is yourself, princess.”

Tim was dressed for the beach in swim trunks and a t-shirt, the bright dragon on his leg completely visible for the first time. He caught her looking at it and raised an eyebrow. “You like?”

“Actually, I do,” she replied. “Why a dragon?”

Tim shrugged. “Chinese dragons protect and symbolize joy. I’ve got a tiger on my shoulder that’s supposed to symbolize courage and strength.”

“Do all of them mean something?” Dawn asked, her hand tracing a tentative trail up Tim’s arm, along the inked bark and leaves of the oak tree.

“Yeah.” His voice was suddenly hoarse. “It’s a way to—mark myself, I guess. It’s hard to explain.”

“I think I get it,” Dawn replied. “It makes sense.”

In her eyes, Tim could read the truth. She really did understand, and that was enough. “We should get going.”

“Okay,” Dawn said, but not before tucking her hand into his.

~~~~~

Dawn hadn’t been to the beach since before Buffy had died. There hadn’t seemed to be a reason to go, not when her heart had been aching so badly. Several of Tim’s friends were already there, and Luz loped ahead of them to greet all with a wet nose and a happy bark.

She hung back slightly as she watched Tim greet them with handshakes and a friendly hug or two. Dawn recognized a few of them from the party she’d been to, but she was a little concerned about what they might think of her. If anyone was having second thoughts about her being there, no one gave any sign.

Meredith was present with her boyfriend, Curtis, as was Ryan. “Hey, Dawn,” Meredith said, sounding reserved but not hostile. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

Dawn smiled uncertainly. “Tim didn’t really give me a choice.”

Curtis laughed. “So you have to kidnap a girl to get a date, Tim?”

“Hey, whatever works,” Tim replied, unphased by the teasing. “Who brought the drinks?”

“I did,” Ryan replied. “Plenty of whatever. You want something?”

“Water?” Dawn asked.

“Same for me too,” Tim added. “I’m driving.” Luz, at Tim’s side, whined insistently, and Tim chuckled. “Looks like I’ve got a request.”

Dawn stuck by him as he started throwing the frisbee for the dog, who happily chased it each time he threw. Meredith and Curtis both stuck close, talking idly of different things that were going on in their lives. At one point, Meredith looked over at Tim. “I meant to thank you for getting that story for me,” she said. “You don’t know how much fun it’s been to splash that bastard’s name all over the front page.”

“That’s my cut-throat journalist,” Curtis murmured affectionately. “I should thank you too, man. Meredith has been a very happy camper lately.”

Meredith rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. “It’s stories like that that are going to get me a job when school’s done. So it’s definitely appreciated.”

“Always glad to help a friend,” Tim replied idly. He glanced over at Dawn, who appeared to be concentrating on Luz and her frisbee obsession. Once you started throwing the damn thing, the dog wouldn’t let you stop until she was completely worn out. Dawn was deceptively calm, but Tim could see the tension in her shoulders.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why Alan showed up at the hospital last week, claming that he was mugged, would you?” Meredith asked.

Tim shrugged. “No clue. A guy can’t be too careful these days, I guess.”

Meredith shook her head, obviously not completely believing him, but unwilling to call him on it. She had a couple cousins who would have done the same if she had been in Dawn’s situation. “I guess not.”

The other couple left a little while later to go wander along the beach, and Tim touched Dawn’s arm, waiting until she met his eyes. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said tightly.

He frowned. “If you want to go home—”

Dawn shook her head. “No. This is fun. It’s just…” she trailed off, sighing.

“Let’s go swimming,” he said, a challenge in his voice.

She hesitated, then rose. “Let’s go.”

They fought the waves together, swimming out and bodysurfing back in until they were both tired and gasping for air. Neither was willing to give up until the others called out to inform them that they were starting to grill.

Dawn looked over at Tim, who stood on the edge of the surf, his dark hair wet, olive skin sleek and shining. He was beautiful. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she replied, realizing that it was true. She hadn’t been this hungry in forever. For the last couple of weeks, her appetite had been minimal to say the least. Dawn picked up her towel and tossed Tim’s over to him, pausing to give Luz’s ears a quick scratch. In response, the dog gave a short, happy bark and then nudged her hand in hopes of more attention.

Tim laughed. “Luz really likes you.”

“Why did you name her Luz?” Dawn asked as they headed over for the food.

He shrugged. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“I doubt it.”

“It means ‘light’ in Spanish,” he explained. “At the time, I needed a little light.”

They were back with the group a moment later, preventing Dawn from asking any other questions. After the swim, and the relaxing afternoon, she was a little more ready to mingle. The other people there were fairly warm, although Dawn was aware that a lot of that was due to the fact that she was with Tim. They were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for his sake.

They weren’t the kind of people she would typically hang out with. It had been different in high school, when pretty much everyone had thought of her as a freak. She had made friends with pretty much anyone who would look past her reputation in those days. Some of them had been a little strange, but looking back they had been some of the best friends she’d ever had.

Maybe the biggest difference had been that they were all a little unusual, and so no one had pretended to be anything other than what they were. It wasn’t as if they were going to win any popularity contests even if they’d tried.

College had been a different story. For the first time, no one had known her as “the sister of that weird girl.” No one had viewed her as a freak, and Dawn had embraced the idea of appearing as normal as possible. Then, after Buffy had died, she’d thrown herself into the party scene with abandon, wanting nothing more than to forget for a while.

In the end, Dawn had forgotten too much.

She shivered slightly, and then felt something soft and warm descend on her shoulders. “You okay?”

Tim stood next to her, concern etched on his features. “Sure,” Dawn replied, looking back into the flames of the bonfire. The sun had since gone down, and the voices around the fire seemed muted by the darkness. “Just thinking.”

“You want to go for a walk?”

If he had been anyone else, Dawn would have said no. There were only two men in the world she trusted right now: Spike and Tim.

Well, maybe three. If she ever saw Xander, he’d be on the list too.

It was Tim, however, and so she nodded, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders. They walked up the beach, Dawn feeling the play of the sand between her bare toes, the light from the fire fading behind them. When they were out of hearing range, Tim sat down, and she settled next to him, offering a corner of the blanket.

Tim smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. “This okay?”

Dawn snuggled into his chest in reply. “Better.”

They sat like that in silence for a while, Luz settling over their feet. Dawn watched the dog breathe, her chest rising and falling in slow whuffs, tongue lolling out of her mouth. “I always wanted a dog,” she said suddenly. “It never really worked out.”

Tim was quiet. “Spike was always feeding strays,” he offered. “We always had a few cats around, and he would set out a bowl of scraps. Sometimes it was a stray dog, but they never stayed. I found Luz in an alley. Somebody had abandoned her, and she flinched every time there was a loud noise or you moved too quick. I brought her home, and Spike didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, and then he said if I was going to have a dog, it was my responsibility.”

Dawn finally worked up the nerve to ask the question she’d been dying to know the answer to. “How did you guys meet?”

Tim was silent. “Tell me about the first time you met him.”

Deciding it was better to humor him, Dawn said, “I was maybe twelve and he came to our house. My sister’s ex-boyfriend had gone all evil and was preparing to destroy the world, and Spike wanted to help her stop him. I wasn’t supposed to be awake, so I was sitting on the stairs, watching, and he saw me.” She laughed softly. “At least, that’s the first time I remember seeing him. He didn’t say anything. Spike just stood there and looked at me. I thought he was pretty cool.”

“The second time we met I was in an alley in New York,” Tim said, and Dawn could hear the pain in his voice. “My parents had kicked me out, and I—”

When the pause drew out too long, Dawn spoke up. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

“No, I want to,” Tim said, his voice hitching a little. “I was turning tricks. I hadn’t been doing it very long, so I was pretty firm about just doing blowjobs. I figure if I’d been out there much longer, I’d probably have given up on that, but—” He took a deep breath. “There were two of them, and they wanted me to get them off. You never took more than one at a time, you know? Just in case it got rough. But it had been a really slow night, and I was so hungry.”

Dawn reached over and laced her fingers with his. She knew where this was going and was amazed that Tim trusted her enough to tell the story. “So I got them off, and they started talking about how they wanted more, and that they weren’t satisfied. They kept saying that a little fag like me had to like taking it up the ass.

“They hadn’t paid me yet, but I knew it was going to get ugly,” Tim said, his voice so low that Dawn could barely make it out over the surf. “I tried to run, but one of them pulled out this big-ass knife, and the other one grabbed me and shoved me up against the wall. One minute they’re fucking me, and then they were gone. Dead. And Spike was standing there.”

Dawn had no idea what to say, and she wasn’t sure if she should risk making things worse by saying anything. What if she hurt him with the wrong words? In the end, she voiced the only coherent thought that was running through her mind.

“I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Tim’s head swung around so that he could look her in the eyes, searching her face for any kind of patronization or insincerity. Instead, he saw tears, and he knew that they were for him.

No one had ever cried for him before.

“Dawn—”

She stopped his words with a gentle kiss. It was chaste and sweet and meant only to reassure, to tell him that she thought no less of him for what he had just revealed. When she drew back, Dawn rested her forehead against his. “Thank you for telling me.”

Tim was too overcome to speak. He could only hold her close.

~~~~~

Spike was going over his finances when Tim came home. The sale he’d made in L.A. would hold them over for another couple months, but then he’d have to consider his next big job. Of course, with Tim’s paycheck, they could stretch things out.

“I thought you were staying with Tara tonight,” Tim said as he came through the door.

Spike raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “She’s openin’ an’ she’s got some meeting tonight. How was the beach?”

“Good.” Tim came into the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring blindly inside.

Spike could feel that something was off, but wanted to wait and see if Tim would open up. “You’re gonna have to give Luz a bath, you know.” He gave the dog an amused glance when she started whining at the b-word. “She’s all sandy.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it tomorrow before I go into work.”

“Something wrong?”

“No.”

There was a pause. “Did Dawn enjoy herself?”

“I think so.”

“You want to tell me about it?”

“What do you want to know?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Nothing, apparently.”

Tim slowly turned to face him. “I told her,” he said in a low voice.

“You—” Spike blinked, suddenly realizing what Tim was referring to. “What did she say?” The vampire wasn’t quite sure what Dawn’s reaction might have been, since Tim was looking dazed and rather confused.

“She—” Tim stared at him. “She kissed me. Dawn called me brave and then she kissed me.”

Spike relaxed as he realized that Tim’s reaction was more due to shock than disappointment. For his part, he wasn’t surprised. Spike had known that once Dawn pulled her head out of her ass, she could be a truly decent human being. “Was it good?”

A shy, amazed grin spread over his face. “Yeah. It was about the best kiss I ever had.” Tim sat down at the table across from Spike. “I didn’t think—I thought if I ever told a girl what happened she’d think…”

“Dawn’s a good one, lad,” Spike said. “When she’s not bein’ a silly bint.”

Tim scratched the back of his head. “She’s—she’s the first girl who’s ever been interested, Spike. I thought—I had to tell her, so she’d know what she was getting into. I figured it might help her to know that, you know—that something like that happened to me too.”

“Niblet was always a smart one,” Spike said quietly. “She knows a good bet when she sees it.”

Tim stared down at his hands. “You mean that?”

“Always.” Spike reached out and touched his shoulder lightly. They did not have a physically demonstrative relationship out of necessity. Tim’s past made physical affection problematic at best. So, when contact was made, it meant something. “There’s no one I’d trust with Dawn more.”

Tim’s face flushed with pleasure. “Thanks. Never thought of myself as a ‘good bet’ before.”

“That’s because you’re hangin’ around much more intelligent people these days,” Spike said with a smile, startling a laugh out of Tim.


	23. Chapter 23

**“Love is everything it’s cracked up to be…It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.” ~Erica Jong**

“I don’t see why you’re nervous,” Anya said bluntly. Of course, Giles thought, Anya was rarely anything but blunt. It had been a trait he admired.

It was harder to appreciate when you were on the receiving end.

“There is a very good chance that we’ll run into Xander while we’re in Sunnydale,” he pointed out patiently.

Anya gave him an incredulous look. “Rupert, I don’t even like Xander anymore. I’m with you. You’re a much better lover, and you’re always respectful.”

Giles couldn’t find much to argue about in that assessment. He credited extraordinary good luck that she’d deign to be with him in the first place. When he’d run into her for the first time in years at Buffy’s funeral, they had struck up a conversation by default. Willow and Xander had been hovering together, and Tara had been comforting an inconsolable Dawn, leaving them to their own devices.

Eventually, they had moved their conversation from the house on Revello to Giles’ hotel room, and the upshot was that Anya ended up returning to England with him. She had long since given up the running of the Magic Box. That was solely Tara’s responsibility and had been since Anya had become a vengeance demon again.

Giles often wondered what had possessed him, that he should fall in love with a demon. He had a greater appreciation these days for Buffy’s tendency to fall for men of the undead persuasion. The Watcher had also found that it was possible to live in the land of denial indefinitely. It was easier to pretend that the woman he loved had a normal job, rather than being someone who wreaked vengeance on hapless men.

Well, not so hapless, really. Anya was a little more discriminating about who she took on and what she did to them these days. What she had lost in blood and guts she made up for in creativity and imagination.

So now he found himself heading back to Sunnydale with Anya on his arm, knowing that everything had changed. Buffy was gone for good. It had been almost a year at this point, and Giles was just now coming to accept that fact.

Willow had decided to stay with the coven. She was not ready to be out on her own, and he wondered if she ever would be. Her power was still too great to be unfettered. Perhaps with age she would learn control—and when to release control, which was the more difficult lesson.

It wasn’t so much that Giles was concerned that Anya would take one look at Xander and leave him. She was quite vocal in her appreciation, and that was always a balm to his ego. No, it was more that he was concerned about what Xander’s reaction would be, and what Sunnydale would be like now that everything had changed.

Some of the best years of his life had been spent as a Watcher there. It hurt to know how much had changed.

“I’m not concerned about you going back to Xander,” Giles replied. “You’re much too intelligent a woman for that. It’s simply…”

As he trailed off, Anya easily filled in the blanks. “Everything has changed.”

She stunned him with her perceptiveness. “Yes. Everything is different now.”

“Sometimes change is good, Rupert,” Anya said quietly. “Not that Buffy dying was good, but—what we have is good.”

Giles took her hand. “Yes. This is very good.”

~~~~~

Tara told herself that she wasn’t nervous. Dawn had flatly refused to come. “I have a class,” she’d explained. “Besides, I don’t want to have to explain what’s been going on.”

She understood. Giles was the nearest thing to a father-figure that Dawn had, even if he had been somewhat distant since the Slayer’s death. Having to explain to your father what had happened to her would be difficult under the best of circumstances. In the end, Tara had reluctantly agreed to tell Giles what had happened, knowing that it would probably be easier.

Dawn was trying so hard right now to turn her life around that Tara had no problem wanting to make things a little easier.

Tim had been very quiet when she’d seen him earlier, answering her questions distractedly. Tara knew he’d taken Dawn with him to the beach party, and she also knew that it had gone rather well. Dawn had sounded very much like her old self when she’d described their date to Tara, gushing over the small details with girlish glee.

There had been nothing there to account for Tim’s more somber mood. Nothing except for Dawn’s comment when Tara asked how she was holding up. “I’m fine, Tara. There are other people who’ve had a lot worse things happen to them, so I figure it’s time to fix my mistakes and move on.”

Tara sighed. Spike had been rather scarce the last couple days. She had felt the change in him soon after Giles’ call. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, but Tara thought perhaps that the vampire was withdrawing slightly, preparing himself for the worst when Giles got into town.

While it hurt, she did understand. Tara had a great deal of respect for other people’s scars.

The blonde witch watched as Giles and Anya came towards her. Even though they weren’t touching, she immediately sensed the closeness. More than that, Giles seemed more relaxed, happier than he’d been in a long time.

The smile of greeting he gave her was warm and genuine, as was the brief hug. “It’s good to see you again, Tara.”

“Same here,” she said, turning to Anya with a smile. Although they’d never been close, Tara felt a bond of kinship with the other woman—or demon now. They had been the least of the Scoobies. “Hi, Anya.”

Anya surprised her by accepting Tara’s embrace. “Hello. You’re looking—” The demon’s sharp eyes took in the faint signs of happiness. “—very well.”

“You too.” There was an awkward pause as they all looked at each other and wondered what to say next.

Giles cleared his throat. “Did you close up the shop for the afternoon?”

“No, Tim’s taking care of things.” At Giles’ slightly skeptical look, Tara added, “Tim took care of the shop while I was in L.A. He’s very competent.”

“I don’t doubt it,” the Watcher replied, relaxing slightly. “I know you wouldn’t hire someone untrustworthy. Is Dawn—?”

“In class,” Tara replied, watching the baggage carousel go round. “She didn’t want to miss any more, otherwise she would have been here.”

Giles frowned. “I see. You said she was in some trouble.”

Tara was quiet. “She was. Dawnie’s been working really hard at getting things back on track though. She wanted me to tell you what happened.”

“Do we want to know?” Anya asked. “Or is this something that will require me to work? Because this is a vacation.”

Tara smiled, knowing that behind Anya’s seemingly self-centered question was a lot of heart. “I think Spike took care of the vengeance. Spike and Tim.”

Giles drew in a deep breath and then let it out again with a sigh. “I see.”

As quickly as possible, Tara sketched out the details of the story, including Tim’s calling the cops and Spike’s hunting party. “The last we heard, he took the plea bargain and is going on probation.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Giles said, a touch of Ripper in his voice. “He ought to be spending a few years in prison at least.”

Tara smiled wistfully. “I agree, but they couldn’t prove that he actually used the drugs, or that he distributed them. Besides, it was a first-time offense and his parents have the money to hire the best lawyer around. We’re lucky we got as much as we did.”

Anya snorted. “All Dawn has to do is say the word, and I’ll have his balls on a platter.”

For once, Giles had no problem with her vengeance schemes. “I’m grateful that she came to you, Tara. At least she’s going down a different path.”

“Dawn didn’t come to me,” Tara replied. “She went to Spike.”

There was a long silence. “Then what you told me is true.”

“Even without the soul, Dawn probably would have made the same choice,” the witch said. “She and Spike were always close.”

Giles pursed his lips. “I remember that.”

“How are you and Spike getting along?” Anya asked innocently, although there was more than a modicum of knowledge behind her eyes.

Tara gave the demon a slightly dirty look. “We’re getting along just fine.”

Giles decided to ignore what was going on right under his nose. It was, after all, what he was good at. “I would like to talk to him about his decision,” the Watcher said quietly. “As well as his plans for remaining on the Hellmouth.” His lips twisted in a wry grin. “The Council has been aware of the necessity to have some sort of protector here for quite a while now, although no one has come up with a constructive solution. This might just be what we’ve been looking for.”

“I’m sure Spike will be thrilled to hear about it,” Tara said, a certain amount of sarcasm in her tone. She was a little worried about Spike’s reaction to Giles’ request. While she didn’t believe that the vampire was planning on leaving Sunnydale anytime in the near future, it wasn’t something they had talked about. She wondered if Spike wouldn’t decide that he didn’t want to be tied down to her and then leave.

Tara couldn’t imagine life without him at this point.

“I wasn’t sure where you’d planned on staying,” Tara said quietly. “You’re both more than welcome to stay with me, if you like.”

Giles shook his head. “I didn’t want to intrude. I’ve already booked a room at the hotel.”

“Then I hope you’ll let me cook dinner for you tonight,” Tara said, her hospitable nature driving her to make the offer. “It’s the least I can do.”

“That will be nice,” Anya replied for the both of them. She had been fairly certain that this trip had the potential to be quite amiable, with Willow back in England and Buffy gone. As long as they didn’t run into Xander, things would be fine. Because as secure as the vengeance demon felt about her relationship with Giles, she was also well aware of the potential for trouble.

Very well aware indeed.

~~~~~

Dawn recognized the signs of nerves when she saw them. Tim was fiddling with things—filling containers that didn’t need to be filled, straightening signs that were perfectly aligned, dusting when he’d already done it. She had come to the Magic Box immediately after her last class, having finally caught up on all her reading and assignments.

It seemed that it might be time for a well-deserved break, and right in time for Giles’ return to town, too.

She hadn’t seen much of Tim since they’d gone to the beach on Friday. Dawn knew that withdrawal was a natural reaction after you’d shared such a big secret. Of course, knowing that, the girl had no plans to allow it.

“You going to Tara’s for dinner tonight?” Dawn asked out of the blue, startling him.

Tim, who hadn’t heard her come in, clutched at the counter. “Dawn. Uh, what?”

“Are you going to Tara’s for dinner tonight?” she repeated patiently. “She’s cooking dinner for Giles and Anya, and wants me to be there. I’m pretty sure you and Spike are invited too.”

Tim hesitated. “I don’t know, Dawn. You guys should probably get caught up before we intrude.”

“It’s not intruding,” Dawn said, rolling her eyes. “You’re practically family.”

Tim frowned. “I don’t think—”

“And if you don’t want to come as family, you can come as my boyfriend,” she continued relentlessly.

Tim blinked. “We’re dating?”

“Well, we’re definitely doing something,” Dawn replied with an impish grin. “If we’re not dating now, we’re moving in that direction.”

He blinked. Dawn had been extremely supportive after he’d told her what had happened to him, but there had still been the fear that she would pull back, that she would decide that being friends was enough. Instead, here she was informing him that they were dating already.

Tim had never actually had a steady girlfriend. “You’re—” He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“I won’t take back what I said, Tim.” Dawn grabbed his hand impulsively. “I don’t care what’s happened in the past. We both—” She paused. “We’ve both been damaged, but that’s okay, because we can be strong for each other.”

He dipped his head and then nodded. “I’m not that strong.”

“Neither am I,” Dawn replied. “So I guess that makes us even.”

“Even is good,” Tim agreed. “I can deal with even.”

~~~~~

Spike had seriously considered to refusing Tara’s invitation for dinner. He didn’t particularly want to see Giles again, and there were less than wonderful memories surrounding Anya as well.

Not that their brief time together had been at all horrible. It had been what it was meant to be—the eye of the storm. Solace. Warmth.

Until Xander came in and ruined it. Until Buffy had saved him and damned him all at the same time. All hope had died when Spike saw her face. The Slayer might have left him, but she would never forgive him for sleeping with one of her friends.

It was just another one of those instances where life was terribly unfair.

So Spike didn’t have any desire to see the old gang. Xander had been an annoyance; Tara a pleasant surprise. The way his luck tended to go, Spike doubted that his reunion with Giles and Anya would be positive.

Still, Tara had invited him to come, and she had done so in such a way as to let him know that she wanted him there. Spike would need a much better excuse than he had in order to skip out.

“I’m glad you came,” Tara said quietly, giving him a quick kiss on the lips as she opened the door. “Giles and Anya should be here shortly, and Dawn and Tim are planning on being here as well, just as soon as the shop is closed.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know the Bit was bringin’ Tim.”

“She’s trying to convince him that they’re an item, and therefore he’s required to be here,” Tara said with an amused smile. “So far, I think it’s working.”

“Good for them,” Spike murmured. He stood with his hands in his pockets, not having felt quite so nervous in the witch’s company for weeks now. “You need me to do anything?”

Tara gave him a look. “You can make yourself comfortable,” she suggested.

Spike looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. “Still don’t get why you want me here tonight, Glinda.”

“So I can prove once and for all that I’m not going to change my mind about us,” Tara said, a touch of exasperation entering her voice. “I am not Buffy, Spike. I’ve had enough people want to hide a relationship with me to know how it feels, and I’m not doing that to you.”

He frowned. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“After Willow and I started seeing each other, it took her a long time to introduce me to the others,” Tara explained. “Even as a friend. At the time, I was so happy just to have found her that I didn’t argue about it, but looking back…”

Spike hurried to comfort her, as was always his first instinct. “She pro’ly wanted to keep you to herself, luv.”

“Is that what Buffy said about your relationship?”

The tables had been turned so fast, Spike answered honestly, without thought of trying to save face. “No. I knew she was ashamed of it, but I just wanted to be with her. Thought it would be enough, that she would come around.”

“How better to make you believe that I’m serious than to bring this all out into the open now?” Tara demanded. “I love you, and I’m not ashamed of that. You’re worth me loving you.”

Spike frowned, wonder beginning to kindle in the depths of his eyes. “What are you tryin’ to say?”

“I’m trying to say that this isn’t about me, Spike. This is about you. I love you because of who you are, not because of anything you can do for me.” She suddenly smiled radiantly. “Except make me happy. You’re really good at making me happy.”

“So when Rupert arrives—”

“I expect to look like a woman who has been thoroughly kissed,” Tara finished. “That should remove all doubt.”

Tara honestly didn’t care about removing Giles’ doubt; it was Spike’s she was concerned about. And as the last vestiges of fear vanished from his eyes, she felt her heart leap in her chest.

She had done that. She had put that look on his face—the look of a starving man finding himself in front of a feast, with all impediments removed. It was a power rush.

It also made her wish that their guests weren’t arriving in ten minutes.


	24. Chapter 24

**“We can only learn to love by loving.” ~Iris Murdoch**

When Giles arrived with Anya, he found Tara looking rather smug and Spike looking much the same as he always had. The two men stared at one another for a long moment, and then Giles nodded stiffly. “Spike.”

“Rupert,” the vampire replied with a slight twist of his lips. He graced Anya with a full-fledged smile. “Anya. You’re lookin’ lovely as ever.”

The vengeance demon smiled, accepting the compliment as her due. “Thank you, Spike. You’re looking well yourself.”

There was a long, awkward silence, since no one really knew quite what to say. “Tara says you’re keeping tabs on the Hellmouth, Spike,” Giles finally said, breaking the silence.

Spike shrugged. “Doin’ my best, I s’pose. Someone’s got to, right?”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid that the Council doesn’t have the resources to spare for Sunnydale right now,” Giles stated.

With a lifted eyebrow, Spike asked, “Doesn’t or won’t? Seems to me like this town isn’t real high on their list of priorities now that there isn’t a Slayer here.”

“That’s true enough,” Giles replied with a sigh. “I would like to talk to you about staying on, however. We could certainly use your help.”

“Don’t really care about that,” Spike said, off-handedly. “Long as Tara’s here, I’ll keep things in check. No sense in lettin’ the vamps get out of hand when I’m right here, yeah?”

Tara, who had returned to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner, blushed as she overheard his words. Spike was staying in Sunnydale, for her. He was going to make sure the Hellmouth was under guard, again for her. Not that she needed his help—she’d been doing just fine on her own—but she still got a little thrill.

“You look good,” Anya commented.

Tara turned to smile at the other woman. “So do you. How are—you and Giles?”

“We’re good,” Anya said. Then more firmly yet, stated, “Actually, we’re really good. I never thought I would fall in love again after Xander.”

“Neither did I. After Willow, I mean,” Tara replied, pulling the casserole out of the oven. “I especially didn’t expect for it to be with Spike.”

“Aren’t those the best kinds of romances, though?” Anya asked. “The unexpected ones?”

“I suppose they are,” Tara replied, thinking not only of Spike, but also of Willow. Both had seemed to occur out of the blue. Her eyes met Anya’s in a moment of shared understanding. “I’m glad you came with Giles this time, Anya.”

Anya smiled. “You know,” she announced. “I think you are a very nice person.”

~~~~~

Tim was feeling rather nervous. He supposed it was only natural when meeting a girl’s family for the first time, but the circumstances around Dawn’s case were unique. Tara and Spike were family, but he’d made their acquaintance before hers. This Giles guy, however, was not only owner of the shop (and therefore his boss in a very removed sense), but also the closest thing Dawn had to a father figure.

Somehow, Tim didn’t think he was any father’s ideal of a boyfriend.

“It’s going to be fine,” Dawn assured him. “There’s no way that you could freak Giles out more than some of my sister’s boyfriends.”

Tim was willing to let himself be distracted. “Really?”

“Well, there was Angel,” Dawn said. “He was a vampire with a soul, who then turned into a monster when she slept with him.”

“Ouch,” Tim muttered, thinking about how shitty that had probably been.

Dawn moved a little closer to him. “Pretty much. In fact, Angel tortured Giles, so you can see why Giles wouldn’t like him.”

“Makes sense,” Tim replied. He was beginning to relax slightly. A few tattoos were nothing compared to being undead, he supposed. “What about her other boyfriends?”

“Well, there was the Parker incident,” Dawn said wryly. “He was almost as bad as Alan. And then there was Riley, who got himself sucked on by vampire ‘hos because he wanted to feel needed or something. Whatever the excuse, it was stupid.”

Tim didn’t have any trouble agreeing with that. “Sounds like it. You’re sister was interesting, wasn’t she?”

“She was,” Dawn replied softly, suddenly turning serious. “I really miss her.”

Tim squeezed her hand. “I wish I could have met her,” he replied. “She sounds like she was almost as cool as you.”

Dawn blushed and then smiled. “Well, she was the superhero in the family. I’m just a mystical Key.”

“Like that isn’t special enough,” he said. “So what is this ‘key’ business anyway?”

They were at Tara’s house by now, and Dawn shook her head. “That’s a really, really long story, but I promise to tell you the whole thing soon. It might freak you out completely, though.”

“You afraid I’m going to run off?” Tim asked incredulously. “I was practically raised by a vampire.”

Dawn laughed a little. “No, I don’t think you’re the running kind.”

“Really not,” Tim agreed. He was staring at her lips, and he wanted to kiss her. Tim also knew that Dawn probably should be the one to initiate anything romantic, given her recent history. She would need to feel like she was in control; he understood that.

Dawn simply smiled. “So, you ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

~~~~~

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The conversation was slow in spots; silences often hung when no one knew what to say. Giles didn’t say anything to antagonize either Spike or Tim, however, and Spike was similarly on his best behavior.

The soul probably helped with that a bit.

The Watcher was a little stiff around Dawn, but that wore off after a while, and he started to warm up to Tim after it became obvious how much they liked each other. The boy’s gentle spirit was clear in the way he spoke and interacted, and Giles couldn’t help but notice.

Spike, on the other hand, seemed remarkably unchanged, although he seemed to possess more self-control. If Tara hadn’t been so certain that Spike now had a soul, Giles would have remained unaware of the change.

After a few hours and a good meal, everyone had relaxed. Giles finally thought the time might be right to address the issue of payment. Even though Spike was committed to remaining in Sunnydale, Giles had authorization to offer him payment to do so. There was no harm in ensuring the vampire’s cooperation.

Besides, Giles had the feeling that any financial aid he might extend to Spike would eventually find its way to Tara or Dawn. That seemed rather apparent.

“The Council is prepared to offer you a deal, Spike,” Giles said quietly after a lull in the conversation. “Payment in exchange for making sure nothing opens the Hellmouth.”

Spike frowned. “Already told you I was stayin’,” he objected. “Why would you think I’d need payment?”

“I don’t think you do,” Giles replied mildly. “I simply thought it might be nice for you to have a regular stipend. Besides, the Council is unaware of your present…attachment.”

Spike gave him a wary look, and then a slow grin broke out over his features. “You’re sayin’ that you lot are goin’ to be payin’ me for somethin’ I want to do anyway?”

“Something like that.”

Spike exchanged a look with Tim, who snorted. “That sounds too good to be true,” the young man commented. “There isn’t a catch?”

“No catch,” Giles assured them. “Other than the fact that we need someone here now that there isn’t a Slayer available. The current Slayer is needed elsewhere, and when Tara mentioned your presence and the fact that you had a soul, you seemed a perfect solution, Spike. We had no idea that you might stay without some kind of compensation.”

Spike laughed. “Shows how much you lot know. Yeah, sure. I’m not turnin’ down a steady stream of dosh. Somebody’s got to pay the rent.”

“Very well,” Giles said. “Then I presume we have a deal.”

“Why not?” Spike asked flippantly. “Not like my plans are changin’.” He shot Tara a look that was full of promise. “I’ll stay as long as Tara’s here.”

~~~~~

Tim and Spike had both stepped out to the back porch to have a smoke, and Anya was helping Tara in the kitchen, leaving Dawn alone with Giles. Dawn had the feeling that the others had left for that purpose alone, to give her time to talk privately with her sister’s Watcher.

Their relationship was an odd one these days. They’d never shared the closeness that had formed between him and Buffy. In fact, Dawn had the sense that Giles had always regarded her as more of an annoyance than anything else. Perhaps things had changed the last few years. He’d certainly been more than kind after Buffy’s death, helping her to sell the house and invest both the proceeds and the insurance money. Even after Giles had left for England again, he would call her once or twice a month to check in.

As time passed, however, both of them had let their relationship go. Even if he was the closest thing to a father figure she had, Giles would always be Buffy’s Watcher first and foremost.

“Tara told me what happened,” he said quietly, once they were alone.

Dawn glanced down at the carpet, staring at the various flecks of color. “Yeah.”

“I’m so very sorry,” he said quietly. “I wish I had been here. Perhaps I would have been able to do something, or—”

“It wasn’t anyone else’s fault,” Dawn replied quietly. “I’m even beginning to believe that it wasn’t mine.”

Giles tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I’m glad to hear that. Are you and Tim—”

“Sort of,” she replied. “I mean, we’re friends. I think it could be more in time.”

Giles did manage a smile this time. “He seems like a very nice lad.”

“I think he is,” Dawn replied. “He understands, and he’s been…Everyone’s been really great.”

Giles was quiet for a long moment. “I miss her, too, Dawn. Every day.”

Dawn nodded. “I know. I just—I know.”

Tentatively, Giles put his arm around her shoulders, uncomfortable but feeling as though it was the thing to do. Dawn simply rested her head on his shoulder, smelling his familiar aftershave. It wasn’t her mom, or Buffy, but it was comforting all the same.

It was, in some strange way, like coming home.

~~~~~

“Did you really mean it?” Tara asked softly. Everyone had gone home, and Spike had left to patrol, only to return a couple hours later. All the promise inherent in his embrace earlier had been more than satisfied.

Spike lazily ran his fingers along her arm, only to rest his hand on her stomach, just below her breast. She shivered as his thumb began to make slow circles on her bare skin. “Mean what, luv?” he asked idly, wondering what ought to come next.

Tara looked over at the vampire, who was as relaxed as she’d ever seen him. Spike’s doubts had been completely banished, she realized. His new assurance had certain benefits for her as well, as he’d made certain that she was one happy witch. “That you’d stay in Sunnydale for me.”

“What other reason would I stay?” he asked, puzzled.

“Dawn?” Tara pointed out.

Spike frowned. “I s’pose, but it’s not a good enough reason, frankly. Dawn’s got her own life, an’ one of these days she’ll move on. I’m not plannin’ on followin’ her around. She ever needs me, I’ll be there, of course, but—‘s not the same.”

“No, it’s not,” Tara acknowledged. “I just thought—I wasn’t sure how you felt.”

He stared at her. “Told you I loved you.”

“I know, but—” She sighed. “I wasn’t sure it was the same.”

Spike knew instantly what Tara was referring to, and he understood. Hadn’t he expressed similar doubts? How was it that Tara could love Willow and then turn around and love him? “It’s not the same,” he replied thoughtfully. “It’s—it’s better, actually.” At the surprise in her eyes, Spike continued. “You’re not ashamed of me, pet. How could it not be better?”

Tara raised a hand to caress his face, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his full lower lip. “You are so important to me,” she confessed. “I don’t know what I would do if…”

“Nothin’s gonna happen,” he said fiercely. “I’m yours, Tara-luv.”

He meant it, Tara knew, body, heart, and soul. Spike devoted himself wholeheartedly to whatever cause he’d deemed worthy, and for some reason, that was her. “You’re mine,” she replied softly. “And I’m yours.”

~~~~~

Tim smiled at her nervously. “So here we are.”

“Yep,” Dawn agreed. “Do you want to come in? We could watch a movie.”

He opened his mouth to refuse and then shut it again. Tim couldn’t get enough of Dawn, of her presence. Every time he saw her, he fell a little more in love with her.

Tim didn’t think he’d mind waiting forever if Dawn asked him to, just as long as she let him remain close by.

“Sure,” he replied, following her inside her apartment. “I’d bet that Spike goes back to Tara’s tonight anyway.”

Dawn shot a curious look. “Do you mind?” She headed for the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Soda?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. “What do you mean?”

“Do you mind that they’re together?” Dawn asked. “I know Spike’s spending a lot of time with Tara. I just thought it might be weird for you, being in your apartment by yourself all the time.”

“He’s happy,” Tim said simply. “Besides, Luz is decent company, and I’ve got friends. It’s not like we hung out constantly before this or anything.”

Dawn came over to sit next to him on the couch, handing him the soda can. “What was it like? Living with Spike?”

“I don’t know,” Tim frowned. “It’s—it’s hard to describe. Why?”

Dawn was quiet for a moment. “I used to have this fantasy,” she explained. “Where I got to live with Spike. It was the year my sister came back—you know, from the dead. Things were just crazy, and I kept remembering how it was when Spike was taking care of me. I wished that I could live with him, or that he and Buffy would get together and he could come live with us.”

“It was different,” Tim finally said. “Different than living with my folks, I mean. I never really saw them. It wasn’t like I didn’t have everything I needed, but they were never there. They were always at work or out with friends or business associates or whatever. When I started living with Spike, he always wanted to know where I was going and who with. He—he cared.”

Dawn smiled wistfully. “Exactly.” She glanced over at him. “I promised I’d tell you about me being the Key, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Is it a long story?”

“You could say that,” Dawn replied. “Will Luz be okay by herself for a while?”

Tim smiled. “I think she’ll survive. So, what’s the Key?”

“The Key,” Dawn said, settling down on the couch, her arm and leg just touching his, “is me.”


	25. Chapter 25

**“At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.” ~Plato**

Dawn decided she liked waking up next to someone else. Tim’s arm was a comforting weight where it was thrown over her waist. She still remembered the look of surprise on his face when she’d invited him to share the bed—just to sleep.

They had stayed up late into the night talking, and by the time Dawn had finished explaining Glory and her own non-existence up until then, plus Buffy’s death and resurrection, both of them had been exhausted. It seemed ridiculous for her to make Tim walk home. The couch wasn’t all that comfortable, and she owned a queen-sized bed, so it only made sense that they share.

Dawn smiled sleepily as she felt him stir. His arm was immediately withdrawn as he woke. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” she replied, rolling over to face him. He looked sheepish. “Really. It was—nice.”

Tim smiled shyly. “I’ve never—I mean, I’ve never shared a bed before.”

Dawn had a few times, but none of the guys she’d shared a bed with had been as pleasant to wake up to in the morning. There was no way she was going to share that bit of information with him, though. When in doubt, change the subject. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Tara’s opening this morning,” he replied. “So not till eleven.” Tim glanced over at the clock. “You want breakfast?”

Dawn stared at him. “Are you offering to cook?”

“If you’ve got any food around here, sure,” Tim replied, climbing out of bed. He’d kept his pants on, but he now reached for his t-shirt. Not that Dawn hadn’t seen him without a shirt on before, but the sight was still enough to make her mouth water. “I’ll have to go let Luz out in a little while.”

Dawn followed him into the kitchen. “Wait. You cook?”

“Uh, yeah,” Tim replied. “It’s not like my parents ever did. If I wanted anything other than takeout, I had to learn how to cook. I like it. Sometimes it can be fun.”

Dawn was still staring at him. She was an idiot. Here was this guy—cute, sweet, and he could cook. Why the hell hadn’t she snatched him up immediately?

Oh, yeah, that’s right. She had been busy acting like an idiot.

“So what are you going to make?” she asked, curious.

Tim grinned at her. “Let’s just see what our options are, shall we?”

~~~~~

They were the last people Xander had expected to see. Strike that. _She_ was the last person Xander had expected to see.

He and Anya had not parted on good terms, and that was putting it mildly. While he had tried again and again to apologize for running out on their wedding, Anya hadn’t wanted to hear any of it. After the Magic Box had been damaged, she had decided that she didn’t want to stay in Sunnydale anymore. Tara had taken over management, and had done a good job of it, too.

Still, when Xander saw the store he couldn’t help remembering it all—the hours of research, the secret make-out sessions, their planning to destroy Glory. He remembered asking Anya to marry him—and seeing Spike all over her on that table.

Not even time had been able to heal that wound.

Xander just didn’t understand what anyone saw in Spike. Especially the women he loved. Why was it that all the women he loved ended up going after the undead? It made no sense.

Of course, Xander usually conveniently forgot that Anya was now a demon again.

Today, however, when he passed the shop, he could see Tara inside with Tim and that damn dog. That much wasn’t unusual. Giles was sitting next to Tara at the central table, however, and next to him was Anya.

He couldn’t help himself. The bell over the door jangled as he pushed it open. “An?”

She stood, standing stiffly. “Xander.”

“I—when did you get into town?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away from her for long enough to look at Giles.

Giles cleared his throat. “We arrived yesterday. I wanted to check in on things at the shop.”

Xander glanced at him, and then around the interior of the Magic Box. “Where’s Willow?”

“She decided not to come, Xander,” the older man said gently.

He frowned. “Why? Was she busy, or—”

“She didn’t want to see Tara,” Anya said bluntly. “Sometimes it’s hard seeing the person you used to love again.”

Tara winced at Anya’s typical directness, but she was more concerned for Xander, who wasn’t looking well. She wondered how much he was drinking these days, because he appeared bloated and pasty. “Xander, why don’t you sit down?” she invited gently. “We were just talking about going out to dinner.”

“Is Spike going to be there?” Xander demanded.

Dawn frowned. “He might be. Xander, what’s gotten into you? I know you’re disappointed that Willow couldn’t come, but—”

“No, she could have come, right?” Xander asked. “She could have, but she didn’t. She didn’t even want to see me?”

Giles sensed the brewing storm. “Xander, if you’ll just have a seat, we can talk.”

“No!” Xander shouted. “You were supposed to come and get rid of Spike! You were supposed to understand!”

“Spike has a soul now,” Dawn replied. “No one’s getting rid of him. If you want to join us—”

He looked around, feeling a little wild and terribly disappointed. Willow had stayed away because she didn’t want to see Tara, but that meant that she didn’t even want to see him. She had been his best friend, and she didn’t want to see him.

“I’ve got to go,” he gasped desperately and shoved his way out the door, past a surprised Spike who was just on his way in.

Spike frowned. “What was that about?”

“Xander’s going a little crazy,” Dawn said, her brow creased in worry. She leaned back slightly into Tim, who had remained silent, but moved close to her for support. “What’s up with him?” she asked Tara.

“I would say that he’s very disappointed that Willow didn’t visit,” Tara replied diplomatically.

Spike snorted. “Harris is pissed as hell that I’m still around,” he corrected her. “Git probably thinks I’ve got everythin’ he ever wanted and will never have.”

“Don’t you?” Tim asked softly, speaking for the first time. “He’s got nothing.”

Giles sighed. “That’s not quite true. He just believes that.”

~~~~~

Dawn’s question had gotten Tim to thinking. While he and Spike hadn’t always spent a lot of time together, things had been different recently with the vampire spending nearly all of his time with Tara. Not that Tim minded—he was thrilled that Spike was so content. It was just that Tim wanted to hang out with him for a while. That was the main reason he’d insisted on accompanying Spike on patrol. The other reason was to ask Spike what he thought he should do about Dawn. Tim was thinking a nice dinner out or something, but he wanted advice from an expert.

“So you’re going to get paid now, huh?” Tim asked.

Spike glanced over at him. “That’s right. Now that I’ve got the money an’ we’re settled for a bit, you might want to think ‘bout goin’ to school.”

“College?” Tim asked, sounding surprised. “Why?”

Spike snorted. “It’s what all the kids are doin’ these days.” He sighed. “Just—I’m thinkin’ about your future is all. You ever thought ‘bout what you might want to do when you grow up?”

The boy shrugged. “I like working at the shop. It would be cool to own a place like that someday, maybe sell comics and collectibles or something like that.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Might help if you had a business degree or somethin’ like that, then.”

“Maybe,” Tim acknowledged. “I didn’t think I was the kind of guy to go to college.”

Spike stared at him. “You’re a smart kid.”

“So? I’m a lot of other things too,” Tim pointed out. “Things that don’t always mesh with a normal life or a college degree.”

“You changed your mind about that yet?”

“In a way,” Tim replied. “College might not be so bad, and I can start out slowly.”

“Sure you can.” They walked in silence for a while, listening to the vague sounds of insects and the wind in the leaves. Tim liked the stillness—liked the fact that the darkness held no terror for him these days. “So what else did you want to talk about?”

Tim smiled. He never had been able to put one past Spike. “Dawn.”

“You two doin’ okay?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I want to take her out.”

“You want to borrow the car?” Spike asked.

Tim looked surprised and then grateful. “That would be great.” He honestly hadn’t thought that Spike would make the offer without him asking. Or maybe begging. “I’ve never really done this before,” Tim said in a rush. “What—what am I supposed to do?”

Spike’s lips twisted in amusement. “Best case scenario? You take her to a nice restaurant, pay for it, an’ then drive her home an’ hope you get a goodnight kiss.”

Tim knew all that already. “Yeah, but how does this work, Spike? I know she needs to set the pace, but how do I know when to kiss her? Or whatever.”

“You’re askin’ how to have a long term relationship with her,” Spike said bluntly.

Tim shrugged. “Isn’t that the point?”

“You’d be surprised at how many people wouldn’t agree with you on that one,” Spike murmured. “But, yeah. I think that is supposed to be the point. Do what you’ve been doin’, Tim. You’re a good guy. It’ll happen.”

“I wish I knew what to say, to prove I’m not…”

“I imagine she already knows that, lad,” Spike said gently. “You forget that she knew you before. An’ she knows you’re with me, which counts for somethin’ with Dawn.”

“I guess.”

The silence of the night was broken by a body crashing through bushes. In another moment, the dirt encrusted form of a newly risen vampire appeared. “Can I get this one?” Tim asked.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Be my guest.”

The boy moved like a pro—like he’d been trained by the best. Spike liked to think that he had. Tim dodged a clumsy blow before driving the stake home in one smooth motion. The fledge disintegrated, and the young man turned to look at Spike with a broad grin. “I never get tired of watching that.”

Spike opened his mouth to reply, but was distracted by the look on Tim’s face. He moved to the side before Tim could even open his mouth to shout a warning, but the damage had been done. The claws on the demon tore through leather, skin and muscle, and Spike knew that they were in trouble. “Run!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Tim replied heatedly. Indeed, instead of running he rushed towards them, yanking Spike to his chest in what looked like a rough hug. In reality, Tim was reaching for the knife that he always carried while pulling Spike away from danger. When the demon growled and swiped at Tim with his dripping claws, Tim dropped to the ground, still keeping a firm grip on the vampire.

With a harsh shout, the young man came back up under the claws, his switchblade carving open the demon’s stomach, spilling purple blood. The demon screamed, an inhuman sound that Tim ended by passing the blade across its throat.

He wasn’t sure if it was dead or not, but Spike obviously needed help. Tim cleaned his knife off on his t-shirt and then pocketed it, hauling the vampire up. “Can you walk?”

“Think so,” Spike muttered. “Told you to run for it.”

“Since when have I listened to you?” Tim shot back. “Besides, that thing was going to kill you.”

“Part of the job description,” Spike ground out, gritting his teeth against the pain that was starting to radiate up and down his back and left arm. “You should have run for it.”

“Yeah, well, you can thank me for saving your unlife later,” Tim said grimly. “Tara’ll know how to patch you up.”

“Thanks.”

Tim was quiet. “Just returning the favor.”


	26. Chapter 26

**“Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.” ~Anton Chekhov**

Spike was barely conscious by the time they reached Tara’s door, and Tim was soaked in both the demon’s blood and the vampire’s. The witch opened the door to his frantic knocking, her eyes going wide at their blood-soaked forms. “What happened?”

“Demon,” Tim said shortly, hauling Spike across the threshold. “It caught Spike by surprise.”

“Is it—”

Tim smiled grimly. “Spike’s the one who trained me,” he said. “It’s dead. Where do you want him?”

She bit her lip. Tara hardly wanted her bed soaked with blood, not when she needed to put Spike in it after she patched him up. “The bathroom,” she finally decided.

Tim was grateful that he had a couple inches on Spike; it made it that much easier to haul his undead ass into the bathroom and deposit him on the closed toilet seat. Without being told, Tim began stripping Spike’s jacket and shirt off, revealing raw wounds that went all the way through his shoulder. A sound from behind had him turning to see Tara, her face grim.

“Is he going to be okay?” Tim asked.

Tara nodded. “I think so. If he’s not dust, there’s a very good chance that he’ll recover just fine. I want you to call Giles at his hotel, though, and let him know what happened. We’ll need to figure out what kind of demon it was.”

“Sure,” Tim replied, turning to go.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t bother asking her why she was thankful. “Anytime.”

~~~~~

Giles would have liked to pretend surprise at the young man’s story, but somehow he wasn’t all that shocked. Spike was the sort of person who would ensure those under his care were capable of taking care of themselves, even if he was the one who had to train them.

He had asked Tim to meet him at the Magic Box, because most of the research materials he’d collected as a Watcher were still there. Tara refused to leave Spike alone, so Giles had recruited the boy to help.

Tim turned up not long after Giles arrived, looking none the worse for wear, his hair still wet from a shower. “Had to stop to get cleaned up,” he explained quietly, a yellow dog at his heels. “I was covered with blood.”

“Not your own?”

“Spike’s and the demon’s,” Tim replied. “It was pretty gross.”

“Anya’s making us some coffee,” Giles explained. “Since you were the one who saw the demon, I thought you might help us figure out what it was doing here.”

Tim make a face. “It looked like it was trying to rip Spike’s heart out with its claws.”

Giles smiled tightly. “Be that as it may, it is most unwise not to find all the information possible.”

“I’m not arguing with you,” Tim said quickly. “I want to make sure it didn’t do anything else to Spike by putting its claws through him. If anything happens—” He fell silent and accepted the book that Giles handed to him.

Giles smiled reassuringly. “Spike will be fine. He’s survived a lot worse than a simple demon.”

Tim gave him a half-smile. “If you say so. You’re the expert.”

Anya appeared from the back room with a carafe of coffee. “Hello, Tim.”

“Hey, Anya,” he replied. From what he’d seen of the other woman, Tim really liked her. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied primly, giving the dog a dubious look. “Will your dog drink coffee too?”

“Luz?” Tim asked, amused. “No, the caffeine makes her jumpy.”

“That’s okay then,” Anya said. “I didn’t make enough for all of us and a dog.”

Giles’ lips twitched. “I’m sure there will be enough.”

They spent the next couple hours researching. For once, Anya could not identify the demon from the description given. Giles kept giving Tim frequent appraising looks. The boy had not only handled himself well in the fight, given his report, but was also rather intent on the research.

Tim would be a good guy to have around on the Hellmouth, that was for certain.

“Here, is this it?” Anya asked, shoving a book across the table in Tim’s direction.

The young man quickly skimmed the description, nodding. “That’s it,” he confirmed. “The purple blood pretty much gives it away.”

“Indeed,” Giles replied, reaching for the book and reading the passage for himself. He frowned. “That isn’t good.”

“What’s not good?” Tim asked, a note of alarm in his voice.

Giles shook his head. “The demon’s claws are coated in a venom that will prevent wounds from healing. For a human, that’s usually fatal. For a vampire, it will probably mean that Spike heals at a normal rate, rather than an accelerated one.”

“So Spike’s going to heal about as fast as I would from serious wounds,” Tim clarified.

Giles sighed. “Essentially. If his injuries are as extensive as you indicated, Spike will be out of commission for at least a couple of weeks.”

“We’ll just have to hope we don’t have an apocalypse then,” Anya said matter-of-factly. “Otherwise, we’re screwed.”

“I should call Tara.” Tim rose from the table. “She’ll want to know.”

Giles nodded, and glanced over at Anya. “Perhaps we should stay in town a little longer than planned,” he suggested. “It might not hurt to be available in case something should happen.”

Anya sighed. “I guess this just became a busman’s holiday.” Then she brightened. “Unless you don’t mind me popping over to L.A. for some shopping.”

“Not at all,” Giles replied, knowing that she was probably thinking about teleporting. “You might want to think about taking Dawn with you, however. She could probably use a treat.”

Anya made a face. Taking humans along made everything so much more complicated. Then she gave Tim a considering look. “Dawn will need something new to wear,” she decided. “A girl always wants something new to wear on a date.”

Tim didn’t hear her, since he was on the phone, but Giles shook his head. “You like him, then?” he asked, knowing that the vengeance demon was a sharp judge of character.

“Of course,” Anya said. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone in Spike’s company.”

Giles decided not to push for an explanation of that comment. “You really don’t mind staying?”

“I have some happy memories here too, Rupert,” Anya replied tartly. “So I don’t mind visiting. We’re not staying, however.”

“Of course not,” Giles swiftly assured her. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s fine then,” Anya replied with the smug smile of a woman who has her man wrapped snugly around her finger. “Another couple weeks won’t hurt anything.”

In theory, anyway.

~~~~~

Tara was getting concerned, even as she sponged off Spike’s bare chest and back. The bleeding should have stopped, but it still oozed out of raw wounds. On the rare occasion when he was injured on patrol, and came to her for first aid, Spike had usually stopped bleeding by the time she saw him.

In fact, Tara was fairly certain that Spike came to her for the attention and the action he got afterwards, rather than because he needed the care.

She felt him rouse slightly. “Tara-luv?”

“It’s me,” she assured him. “Spike, I think I’m going to have to stitch you up.”

He attempted a smirk, but didn’t quite make it. “Vampire, Glinda. I’ll heal.”

“You haven’t stopped bleeding,” she pointed out. “That’s not normal.”

She felt him sigh, expelling air he didn’t need. “I trust you,” he finally said. “You do what you think is best.”

Spike didn’t even flinch as she put small, even stitches through the ragged gashes. For once, Tara was grateful for her traditional upbringing. She certainly knew how to sew a good seam. Flesh wasn’t that much different once you got past the ickiness factor.

Tara had to sew up both front and back, since the wounds went all the way through, and her hands were shaking with fatigue by the time she was finished. Ignoring her weakness, she taped gauze pads over the stitching and pronounced him done.

Spike was looking paler than normal, the dark circles under his eyes especially pronounced. “You need to eat.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get it in the morning.”

“Spike—” The warning note in her voice had him looking up to meet her eyes. “Don’t argue with the doctor.”

“We playin’ doctor now, pet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling in spite of his weakness. “Give me a mo’, an’ I can probably join you.”

“Stop that,” Tara said, although with no real heat in her voice. “You are going to bed, and then you’re going to eat. In that order.”

“And will you be joinin’ me?” he asked, his arm draped around her shoulders as she helped him walk back to the bedroom. Tara could feel him leaning on her, and knew that it was a sign of how hurt he really was.

Tara pressed her lips together to contain a smile. Spike really was irrepressible. “If you can promise to behave.”

There was a pause, and then he said in a low voice, “All jokin’ aside, I don’t think I’d be up for much tonight.”

She decided to ignore the double entendre. “That’s why you’re going to bed and staying there until I can find out what’s going on. Tim is with Giles researching right now.”

Spike nodded. “Wondered,” he murmured. “You should have seen him tonight, luv.” Pride colored his voice, warming it. “Boy looked like he’d been born to fight. Couldn’t have done any better myself.”

“It’s a good thing,” Tara said softly. “I came too close to losing you tonight.”

“I’m not that easy to lose, pet,” Spike replied, but there was a note in his voice that Tara recognized as doubt. He knew how close he’d come to dusting.

Her hand on his cheek silenced him. This was how it was supposed to be, he realized. This easy friendship that sizzled with passion. It was the best of both worlds; it was everything he had ever wanted. “Can you finish getting undressed by yourself?”

“Think I can manage,” Spike replied around the emotion that threatened to choke him. She smiled and left, and Spike worked the buckle of his belt with his good hand, just managing to get himself out of his jeans. Tara must have removed his boots when he was still out of it, and he was grateful. Just getting his pants off and getting into bed drained what little energy he had remaining.

He was as careful as he could be with the denim, which was still tacky with blood around the waist. The last thing he wanted was to cause Tara trouble by getting more blood on the carpet. Tara entered the room with a mug shortly after he’d gotten himself settled. She sat down at the edge of the bed and handed it to him, watching as he drank.

“You’re going to need a lot more than that to replace what you lost,” she observed.

Spike blinked sleepily as she took the mug back. “Tomorrow,” he said his voice fading slightly. The pain and blood loss were beginning to take their toll again, and all he really wanted was to close his eyes and drift away.

“Tomorrow,” Tara agreed, knowing that the herbs she’d put in his blood would dull the pain and help him drift off. She stretched out a hand to trace his cheekbone, the line of his jaw, watching as his eyes shut and his breathing ceased.

That was the strangest part of being with a vampire, Tara thought. It wasn’t his eating habits, or the fact that he was nocturnal, or that he had an aversion to crosses. It was watching him sleep, his body becoming so still that you would never know that there was life there. Especially since Spike was the most _alive_ person she’d ever known.

The ringing of the phone brought her out of her thoughts, and she recognized Tim’s voice immediately. “What did you find out?”

Tim’s hesitation told her that the news wasn’t good. “Seems like that demon has something on its claws that prevents or slows down the healing process.”

“That would explain why I had to stitch him up to get the bleeding to stop,” Tara commented. “Does Giles think Spike will heal?”

“Yeah, but not as quickly as he usually does,” Tim replied. “Giles is talking about staying in town another couple of weeks, just in case. How is Spike?”

“Sleeping,” Tara assured him. “He’s going to be fine, I think. Would you mind bringing some clothing for him tomorrow?”

“No, that’s fine.” Tara could hear the young man yawn on the other end. “Does it have to be early?”

“Take your time,” she said with a smile. “I’m not planning on letting him get out of bed, so there’s no rush.”

“Great.” There was the faint sound of Giles’ voice in the background. “Oh, Giles wants to tell you that he’ll take care of the shop tomorrow, so we both have the day off. I’ll come by your place as soon as I wake up.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tim,” Tara said. She hung up, heading out to the kitchen to rinse out the mug Spike had used. She rested against the counter for a moment, letting the relief she felt wash over her. It could have been so much worse, she knew.

In some ways it was a relief to love a vampire, knowing that there was so little that could kill him. Spike was one of the strongest people she’d ever known. Besides, Tara would rather have him even for a short time than never have had him at all.

She rose and changed into her pajamas—shorts and a t-shirt that had seen better days. It wasn’t as if Spike was in any shape to appreciate something a little sexier. Sliding in next to him, Tara slipped an arm over his bare stomach, careful to avoid jostling his wounds. She hoped that her body heat would somehow be a comfort, that he would feel her presence even as he slept.

Because Tara knew that she needed to feel his presence.


	27. Chapter 27

**"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." ~E. M. Forster**

Tim slept deeply and dreamlessly, Luz curled into his side on the bed. Normally he didn’t let the big dog sleep with him, but he’d wanted the comfort of a warm body. If Tim had been even marginally more certain of his relationship with Dawn, he would have gone over to her place. He felt as though he needed the comfort.

He was surprised when he woke around noon the next day, having had no nightmares about the night before. He realized that it was the sound of knocking on the door that had woken him, and he stumbled out of his room, still half-drugged with sleep, to open it.

It was Dawn, and before he could even register her identity, she had flung herself into his arms. “Are you okay?” she demanded.

“Fine,” Tim replied, bewildered. “What—”

“I went by the shop today, and Giles told me what happened,” she said in a rush. “He said you weren’t hurt, but I had to come see for myself.” Dawn ran her hands down his bare arms as though reassuring herself of his wholeness. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Something was twisting in the pit of Tim’s stomach, an emotion for which he had no name. “Yeah, I’m good. Spike was the only one who got hurt.”

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t the chaste kiss of their night on the beach, the one when he’d spilled his guts to her. This was a full-on body contact, tongue-tripping sort of kiss. It was a kiss that invited danger of indecent exposure, since the door was still open and Luz was watching them with intense curiosity.

Tim had never been kissed like that before.

If he was to be perfectly honest—and this was something he didn’t like to admit—he had never had a real kiss, or anything else for that matter. Sex and desire had always been twisted, had always meant being taken advantage of.

Love requited had always been a fairy tale—something that happened to other people. Even Spike’s stalwart support hadn’t been enough to completely erase the damage that years of emotional neglect had caused.

In truth, there was nothing that could completely erase the damage that had been wrought.

Even so, Tim buried his hands in Dawn’s hair, losing himself for a brief moment. He could smell the floral shampoo she’d used, taste the last remaining hint of toothpaste, feel his heart threatening to break his chest.

He felt almost as though he was flying.

When they both broke away to catch their breaths, Dawn was staring at him with wide eyes. “Was it—was it okay?” he asked, suddenly worried that he wasn’t doing it right.

“Okay?” she asked incredulously. “I think my toes are permanently curled.”

Dawn watched as a slow grin broke out over his face, a lightening of his features that made him downright beautiful in her eyes. “Yeah, me too.”

Something occurred to her. “Haven’t you ever been kissed before?”

“Not like that,” he replied honestly. “Were you really that worried?”

“Yeah, I was,” Dawn admitted quietly. “If something happened to you…” She trailed off, knowing that Tim would understand what she couldn’t put into words. Dawn had lost so much already that to lose the man she was falling for—no, had fallen for—would kill her.

Dawn honestly didn’t think she could take it.

“Is Spike okay?” she asked abruptly, realizing that the vampire wasn’t at the apartment. Spike had taken a lot of damage in the past, but that didn’t mean he was immune from dusting.

Tim nodded, motioning her the rest of the way inside and closing the door. “I think so. He’s at Tara’s place right now. I’m supposed to take some clothes over to him today.”

Dawn relaxed slightly. “So he’s okay.”

A flash of pain crossed Tim’s face. “He will be, I think. That demon really did a number on him, though.”

Dawn winced. “Do you mind if I go with you?”

“No, that’s fine,” Tim assured her. “I—” He stopped, suddenly shy. “I like it when you’re with me.”

A sly smile crossed Dawn’s face. “You know,” she said slowly. “That was my I’m-worried-about-you kiss. Maybe we ought to do a retake, just to make sure it wasn’t the anxiety talking.” With those words, she snagged him by the hand, pulling him in for another kiss, this one slower and more languorous.

Tim decided that he could die happy right then.

~~~~~

Spike woke to the scent of blood—thankfully, not his own. His eyes fluttered open, and he could see Tara’s face bent over his, worry in her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I did a few rounds with a demon an’ lost,” Spike replied, pushing himself up with his good arm. “That for me, luv?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Who else is here that might want to drink it?” she asked, handing him the mug, watching as Spike downed it in one go. “I’ll get you another.”

“No need,” he said. “I’ll get it in a minute.”

Tara fixed him with a look. “You’re not getting out of bed today.”

“You goin’ to join me?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Actually, no,” she said. “I’m going to fix lunch for Tim and Dawn, who are going to be here shortly. You are going to drink another mug of blood and go back to sleep.”

Spike blinked. He had never gotten quite that tone of voice from Tara in the past. “I’m feelin’ a lot better, Tara.”

“Apparently something in that demon’s claws makes the healing process a lot slower,” she replied. “That means it’s going to be all too easy for you to re-open those wounds.”

Spike frowned. “So you’re goin’ to keep me in bed.”

“At least for another day.” Tara’s voice was firm. “I mean it.”

He stared at her, still not quite comprehending. She was going to make him stay in bed and—do what, exactly? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Tara relented slightly. “If you can’t sleep, you can watch TV on the couch. _If_ you promise not to move. Or I’ll bring you some books to read. You need to take care of yourself.”

What Tara was really saying was that she needed to take care of him. It was a shock to Spike’s system. He was the one who took care of things. When he was injured, he pushed through the pain. No one had ever tried to make him take time off before. “Okay,” he agreed meekly, rather liking the idea of Tara taking care of him.

Her face softened. “Really? You’re not going to fight me on this?”

“When you would win?” he asked with a half smile. “Don’t think so.”

“Good,” she said. “Tim is bringing some clothing for you, so you can move to the couch then if that’s what you want.”

“Would prefer it,” Spike said. “I might not heal as fast as I normally do, luv, but I’m still a vampire.”

“And it’s the middle of the day, which means you should be sleeping,” she pointed out.

Spike shook his head with a grin. “My sleep schedule got shot all to hell a while back, and you know it.”

The feeling in the room changed slightly, and Tara leaned over him, brushing a kiss on his lips. “I’ll go get your blood.”

“Tara?” Spike called after her as she left. “Thanks.”

“It’s my pleasure, Spike,” she replied, and somehow Spike really believed it was.

~~~~~

Tim, intelligent as he was, brought over more than one change of clothing. He had a feeling that Tara was going to want Spike with her until the vampire was completely healed. Besides, Spike had been spending half his time at her house anyways. It only made sense that half his things should be there as well.

Except for letting him have some space to get cleaned up and changed, Dawn hadn’t really stopped touching him since she’d greeted him earlier. She was leaning up against him, letting her arm brush his, slipping her hand into his. It was as though they had crossed some bridge, or opened a door with that kiss.

Tim could still taste it.

When he and Dawn arrived at Tara’s, Spike was nowhere to be seen, but Tara was bustling around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on lunch.

“How is he?” Dawn asked immediately.

“As soon as he gets dressed, you can see for yourself,” Tara replied, with a meaningful look at Tim.

Taking the hint, he went through to her room, where Spike was still ensconced in bed. To Tim’s surprise, Spike was sleeping, although his eyes opened almost immediately upon his young friend’s entrance. “’bout time,” he groused.

“You don’t look all that uncomfortable,” Tim pointed out, although his eyes were drawn to the white bandages that wrapped around one shoulder.

Spike tried to shrug and winced. “Tara takes good care of a bloke.”

“I can see that.”

The silence lay heavy between them. “Thanks.”

“You thanked me last night,” Tim said lightly. “You’re not losing your memory in your old age, are you?”

Spike refused to be baited. “If you hadn’t stuck around—”

“You’d be undead shish-kebab,” Tim interrupted. In spite of the light tone, his green-yellow eyes had turned serious. “If you seriously thought I could have left you there, you’re nuts,” he said bluntly. “We’re—” Tim faltered, not knowing what word to use for what he and Spike were, for why he couldn’t have left.

“We’re family,” Spike said plainly. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m counting on the use of the car so I can impress Dawn,” Tim replied.

Spike smirked. “And how is that going?” he asked. Dawn’s scent was all over the boy, which made it fairly obvious that they’d been up to something.

Tim’s flush was all the answer the vampire needed. “I’ll let you get dressed,” he said, leaving the clothing on the bed.

Spike just chuckled and slowly started pulling on his clothing.

~~~~~

Xander knew that if he could just catch Giles alone, he’d be able to convince the Watcher of the danger that Spike presented. Tara had always had something of a soft spot for Spike—or maybe it was just something about the vampiric charisma that seemed to work so well on women.

That didn’t explain Tim, of course, but Xander really wasn’t into logic at this point.

When he walked by the Magic Box that afternoon, Xander realized that he was in luck. Giles was in the shop alone, and Tara was nowhere to be seen. He was a little curious as to where Anya might be, but at that moment he didn’t particularly care. It was just the two of them—the two men who had loved Buffy the best.

At least, that’s what Xander had convinced himself of.

Giles looked up when the bell over the door rang. He’d just gotten off the phone with Tara. She had informed him that Spike was doing better but that the venom was working much as they had expected. It would be at least another week before Spike was anywhere near ready to patrol again, but he was considering asking Tim to help in the interim. The boy had a good head on his shoulders.

To say that he wasn’t pleased to see Xander was something of an understatement. Over the years, Giles had come to love all his young charges, and for a time, the Watcher had thought Xander would be the most successful out of all of them. After he had saved the world by talking Willow down, the carpenter had steadied.

Giles had, in fact, once considered him to be as solid as the day was long.

With Buffy’s death, and Willow’s subsequent departure, Xander had been set adrift, and he seemed ill-equipped to handle it. Giles wondered now if the younger man hadn’t gone just a little crazy.

“What can I do for you, Xander?” Giles enquired pleasantly enough, hiding his wariness beneath a mask of courtesy.

Xander didn’t beat around the bush. “I wanted to talk to you about Spike.”

“I see,” the Watcher replied. “What about Spike?”

“You know what,” Xander said harshly. “He’s a menace to society, Giles. Someone needs to take care of him.”

Giles sighed softly. “Spike has a soul now, Xander. Perhaps I’ve never been his biggest fan, but he has done quite a bit of good these last few years from what I understand. I think you might need to rethink your perceptions of him.”

It wasn’t at all what Xander had convinced himself to expect. “Don’t you get it?” he demanded. “Spike is dangerous!”

“Spike is no more dangerous than you or I,” Giles replied gently. “I understand that you dislike him, Xander, but for everyone’s sake it might be wise to try to get along with him. Or, if nothing else, to stay away from him.”

Xander shook his head. “He’s put some sort of thrall on you, hasn’t he?”

“I hardly think—”

“He has Tara under his control, and Dawn, and that punk kid.”

“Tim is—”

“You have to do something!”

Now Xander sounded more pleading than anything else. He needed to believe in an enemy, in something they could all fight together. He wanted to saddle up again.

Xander needed things to be like they were.

“Things change, Xander,” Anya said bluntly, stepping out of the back room where she’d been doing inventory to help Giles. “So do people, and even demons. Spike isn’t evil anymore, he has a soul, and he’s with Tara. Get used to it.”

Xander blanched. “Anya—”

“I’m with Giles now,” she continued. “And I’m happy. Willow’s happy with the coven. Dawn’s happy with Tim. The only person who isn’t happy is you, and I think it’s because you’re the only one who refuses to change.

“Grow up, Xander.”

The last was said firmly, but not unkindly. Xander took one more faltering step backwards towards the door. “I’ll show you!” he warned, a little desperately. “You can’t trust him!”

Giles turned to Anya, unhappy with how direct she’d been. “That was a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t,” Anya replied. “Sometimes he needs to get hit upside the head with the truth before he finally accepts it, Rupert. If he doesn’t figure it out, he’s going to make himself miserable, along with everybody else.”

Giles sighed and looked out the direction Xander had run. “I think he’s already miserable.”

“Then let’s just hope he doesn’t do something stupid and finish off the rest of that equation,” Anya said bluntly.


	28. Chapter 28

**“As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape.” ~John Lancaster Spalding**

“Ow,” Spike complained as Tara tugged out the last of his stitches.

The witch rolled her eyes even though he wouldn’t see her since she stood behind him. “Stop being such a baby.”

“It hurts,” he replied. “What do you expect me to say?”

“You’re the big, bad vampire, so you tell me,” Tara teased in reply, stepping back. “All done.”

He flexed his shoulder experimentally, still feeling a twinge. There was definite improvement, however. “’s good. Another week, an’ I’ll be back to a hundred percent.”

“Good to hear.” Tara disguised her sigh of relief admirably. Given Spike’s naturally active nature, keeping him still long enough to heal had been a gargantuan task. She’d practically had to sit on him to prevent him from going out on patrol, and even the assurance that Giles and Tim were taking care of things hadn’t placated him.

It was only when Tara put her foot down and literally forbade him from leaving the house that Spike had complied. That had come as something of a surprise.

What Tara had finally realized was that Spike would do very nearly anything for the woman he loved—which happened to be her. He might argue, fuss, and complain, but in the end, Spike would do it.

In spite of his injuries and the slow healing, it had been a very good week. Living with Spike—who was in turn sensitive and crass, charmingly romantic and frustratingly obtuse—was an adventure in and of itself.

That, and the fact that Spike was a more than generous lover, even when he wasn’t at the top of his game. Tara was one satisfied witch, that was for certain.

It had opened up an entire world of possibilities, and Tara wondered if Spike would ever want to live with her, if Tim was ready to be on his own. There were still things they would have to discuss, variables that had to be addressed, but now Tara knew that living with Spike was possible.

More than possible—it was what she wanted.

Spike tugged his t-shirt over his head, relishing the ability to move again without the constant pulling at his skin. “S’pose you won’t be keepin’ such an eagle-eye on me now,” he commented. “Should be able to go back to your regularly scheduled life.”

“You are my regularly scheduled life,” Tara said, the words out of her mouth before she could think about their import.

Spike froze for a second, and then a softness lit his eyes that even Tara saw but rarely. “You thinkin’ ‘bout makin’ this a permanent situation, luv?”

“Thinking about it,” she acknowledged. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to. Maybe you’d want your own space.”

“Maybe I want you as part of my own space,” was Spike’s rejoinder. “Have to have a talk with Tim, but the boy’s old enough to be on his own if he’d like. ‘s not like I wouldn’t be close.”

“He might want to try having a roommate his own age,” Tara suggested. “It’s part of the college experience.”

Spike cupped her cheek in one rough hand, catching her lips with his. “We’ll talk about it,” he promised. “’s not gonna happen tomorrow, but—”

“Soon,” Tara finished, kissing him again. Spike tangled his fingers in her hair, not bothering to reply with words. He pulled back to let Tara catch her breath and then started placing a trail of kisses down the long line of her throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured reverently. “Love you so much.”

There were no words—she was rendered speechless by his attentions. Even as his lips blazed a trail down her neck, tracing her collarbone, Spike hands were busy under her shirt. Cool lips and hands against her hot skin made for an erotic sensation.

She felt it when Spike started to maneuver them back towards the couch. “Spike—we can’t,” she managed to gasp.

Spike didn’t let up. “We’ve got time.”

“Dawn and Tim will be here any moment!” Tara protested, although her voice was rather weak. It was hard to think about stopping when that was the last thing she really wanted to do.

Spike chuckled wickedly. “Maybe they’ll learn somethin’,” he suggested.

Tara pulled back to glare at him. “Spike!”

He laughed out loud and then gave her a hard kiss. “Fine, Glinda. We’ll wait till later.” His eyes glittered. “Then ‘m goin’ to show you exactly how much improved I really am.”

The doorbell had him getting up, leaving Tara to straighten her clothing even while Spike’s hair remained unrepentantly curly. “Do you guys ever stop?” Dawn asked teasingly as she entered the house.

“Why would I want to?” Spike asked placidly. “You two ready to get going?”

Tim smirked. “The real question is are you?”

“I’m always ready,” Spike replied, the evil glitter in his eyes letting everyone know that he meant the double entendre.

Tara bit back a giggle. She should have probably reproved him, but it was obvious that he was feeling good for the first time in a while, and Tara honestly loved seeing him happy. Besides, she’d long since gotten used to his irreverent sense of humor, and the fact that she could engender that sort of response—

Icing on the cake.

She paused. Icing—now there was an idea for later…

“You’ve got that look on your face again,” Dawn whispered.

Tara glanced over at the younger woman. “What look?”

“The look where you’re planning on devouring Spike,” Dawn said. “Not that I blame you, but give him that look around Giles, and you know he’s going to start to clean his glasses.”

“Rupert’s eased up some since the old days,” Spike said, breaking into their conversation, having easily overheard it. “You know who he’s with.” He smiled at Tara. “’course, Anya calls you on it, an’ you’ll probably get an earful ‘bout the best way to orgasm, complete with diagrams.”

Tim grinned broadly, having been subjected to Anya’s running commentary over the last week in the shop. The vengeance demon had no problem saying what was on her mind, that was for sure. He could have sworn he saw Giles blush a few times, and was just glad that she hadn’t said anything about him and Dawn yet. “We’ll get the talk anyway,” he pointed out. He shrugged. “I like her. She’s fun.”

“We don’t get movin’, we’re gonna be late,” Spike commented complacently, completely ignoring the fact that he’d been doing his best to make sure he and Tara were late.

The witch smiled and shook her head. “Let’s go, Spike. Before you can get me into any more trouble.”

“Oh, I can think of some trouble to get you into,” Spike replied, unwilling to let her have the last word.

~~~~~

“They look really good together, don’t they?” Dawn asked. It was a beautiful evening, and they had decided to walk to the restaurant where they were meeting Giles and Anya. Now that the crisis had passed, they had decided that it was time to get back to their interests in England, and they were leaving in a couple of days. This was intended as a farewell dinner for them.

Tim looked at Spike and Tara, who were walking ahead of them in the classic lover’s pose—his arm over her shoulders, hers around his waist, their heads bent together. “Yeah, they really do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spike this happy.”

“I don’t think I have either,” she replied quietly. “It’s nice to see. It’s almost like—” She paused, hesitating to say it out loud.

Tim gave the hand he was holding a squeeze. “Like what, sweetheart?”

“Like having a family again.”

Tim smiled reflectively, thinking that Dawn’s words weren’t too far off the mark, except that for him it was like having a family for the first time. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He paused. “I think that Spike’s going to move in with Tara soon.”

“You okay with that?” Dawn asked.

“I think so,” Tim replied. “It’ll be different, but—nice. I think I’m ready to be on my own, and it’s not like he won’t be right there.”

Dawn was silent, and then she said in a very small voice. “And maybe once you’ve lived on your own for a while, you might want a roommate.”

He shot her a startled glance, and then smiled. “If you don’t mind putting up with Luz.”

“I like your dog,” Dawn said, teasing. “It would be you I’d worry about.”

“Why, you—” Tim’s hands went for her sides, where he knew she was ticklish, causing her to shriek with laughter. It was a moment of light-hearted playfulness on both their parts, and ahead of them, Spike and Tara didn’t even look back, instead just smiling indulgently.

Even the most innocent of sights can give the wrong impression, however, if you’re expecting the worst.

Tim suddenly found himself being slammed up against the brick wall of the building they had been walking next to. In an instant, he was back in that dirty alley in New York.

_The grit of brick bit into his cheek, and strong hands were holding him down. Tim knew that they were going to kill him after they were done._

He was trapped, helpless. There was the flash of light on metal as one pulled a knife, and then—

Tim had had flashbacks before, but he usually managed to fight his way through it, grounding himself on the texture or smell of something around him. This time, however, everything blended in, and there was nothing to pull himself out.

It wasn’t until he felt hands on either side of his face that the voices broke through. He heard Spike’s voice, saturated with anger. Dawn’s was the next he recognized. “Tim, it’s okay. I’m right here. No one’s going to hurt you. Look at me, sweetie. It’s going to be just fine.”

With some difficulty, Tim managed to meet Dawn’s blue eyes. “Dawn?” he whispered.

“That’s right,” she replied. “Just focus on me, Tim. I’m right here. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“It’s going to be just fine, sweetie,” Tara added, putting an arm around his shoulders. “No one’s going to hurt you.” The witch glanced over her shoulder. “Spike, please don’t kill Xander.”

Spike growled audibly. “Told him if he touched one hair on the lad’s head I’d have his balls. I meant it.”

“You okay?” Dawn asked Tim. When he nodded, she marched over to Xander and slapped him across the face. “What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded.

“He was attacking you!” Xander protested, already knowing that he’d been mistaken. He’d seen the look on the boy’s face after slamming up against the wall, and he had never wanted to cause that kind of fear—unless it was in a vampire. In that moment, Xander had stepped outside of himself and had seen what everyone else had been looking at the last few months. It wasn’t pleasant.

Dawn glared at him. “Tim and I were just joking around, Xander! If you had even talked to me for five minutes in the last couple months you would know that I’d trust him with my life! But, no. You waltz in here and make assumptions, and you hurt my boyfriend. I want you to stay away from us until you can get yourself under control, Xander.”

Giles and Anya came running up. “We saw you through the window,” Giles explained quickly. “What’s going on?”

“Harris here attacked Tim for no reason,” Spike growled. “’m thinkin’ he might be a menace to society right now.”

“Let him go, Spike,” Tara said, knowing that Spike was very close to squeezing the life out of the man.

Spike snarled wordlessly and obeyed, his fingers leaving livid bruises on Xander’s throat. “You’re lucky.”

Xander slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be tellin’ me, you great idiot,” Spike growled. “You tell Tim. He’s the one you attacked.”

Xander shot a glance over at Tim. “Sorry.”

Tim was incapable of replying. He looked up at Xander, and then back down at the ground again, trying to get the shakes under control.

“I’m taking him home,” Dawn said.

Spike pulled out his wallet. “You two get hungry…” He trailed off, handing Dawn a couple twenties. The vampire watched as Dawn wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist, leading him off. Spike had witnessed Tim’s flashbacks in the past, and he had always been the one to comfort him. He had always been the one to make sure Tim was okay, that he was stable again. This time, Dawn would be there.

Things were changing.

The vampire turned back towards Tara and the others. They were all standing in a loose semi-circle around Xander, preventing him from going anywhere. “Rupert—” Spike started. Someone needed to do something about the man.

“I’ll take care of him,” Giles asserted.

“Are you certain, Giles?” Tara asked. “Maybe we—”

“No, we aren’t doin’ anything,” Spike said firmly. “He won’t survive if I stay in his company much longer.”

Tara sighed and nodded. “Alright. Giles?”

“It’ll be fine, Tara,” he said soothingly, looking over at Anya, who managed to look both sympathetic and disapproving at the same time. “I’m sure he just needs some time to settle down.”

“And sober up,” Anya muttered under her breath, low enough so that Spike was the only one who heard her.

Spike had smelled the alcohol on Xander’s breath, which was why the man wasn’t already dead. “I catch you within ten yards of Tim again, you won’t get off so easy,” Spike warned, turning on his heel and stalking away.

Tara paused just long enough to give Xander one long, saddened look before hurrying off after Spike. Meanwhile, Giles was still staring at Xander with an expression the younger man always hated to see—pure disappointment. “I think we’d better get you a cup of coffee,” the Watcher finally stated.

“I’m going back to the hotel,” Anya announced. “You don’t need me here for this.”

Giles nodded. He honestly hadn’t expected her to stick around. “Come, Xander. I think we need to talk.”


	29. Chapter 29

**“Love is the immortal flow of energy that nourishes, extends, and preserves. Its eternal goal is life.” ~Smiley Blanton**

Dawn could feel Tim trembling against her, and he kept muttering apologies for his weakness. “I’m sorry, Dawn.”

It was about the fifth time he’d uttered those words, and she was getting just a little tired of hearing it. “It’s not your fault,” she replied. “Xander was being a total jerk.”

“Yeah, but we were supposed to go out to dinner, and—”

She halted them both. “Stop it right now, Tim. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. It was a flashback, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s—it was the worst one in a while.”

Dawn sighed. “Well, it’s no wonder. It’s dark, Xander grabbed you from behind—he couldn’t have recreated the circumstances better if he tried.”

Tim let out a shaky breath, acknowledging the truth of that statement. The playful mood from earlier had been thoroughly broken. In fact, if things went the way they typically did, he was going to be jumpy and out of sorts for days. Looking over his shoulder constantly and waiting for the next attack. “Look, Dawn, I’m not going to be much fun to be around. Maybe you should—”

“I told you to stop, Tim,” Dawn said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed. “So what do you think we should do?”

“We’re going back to your place,” she replied. “Then, we’re going to order take-out and watch movies. I’ve seen your DVD collection. There’s plenty to choose from.”

Tim wasn’t sure how to reply. He felt pathetically grateful for her willingness to stick around, and he had no idea how to tell her that. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dawn responded. “You need me right now, whether you know it or not.”

“I do know it.” Tim glanced over at her. “Spike’s the only one who ever—”

“Spike’s not the only one who cares about you.” Dawn looked up at him. “You were strong for me, Tim. It’s time to let me return the favor.”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. “I can do that.”

~~~~~

Giles took Xander to the only place he knew they wouldn’t be disturbed—the Magic Box. The shop was closed, and the Watcher knew he need not worry about Tara or Spike walking in on them. In fact, he had the suspicion that the vampire would be avoiding Xander like the plague.

At least, Giles hoped that Spike would be avoiding Xander. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give the younger man good odds on survival. “You want to tell me what that was all about?” he asked, putting a cup of coffee down in front of him.

They sat at a table nearly identical to the one he’d had when the store first opened. It brought back memories for both of them to be sitting there. Xander stared down into his cup. “I don’t know, Giles. I saw that kid go for Dawn, and I thought—”

“He has a name, Xander,” Giles corrected gently. “And Tim wouldn’t hurt her. I think you know that.”

“It’s all different since Buffy died,” Xander admitted in a low voice. “Willow left, and Tara—she’s with Spike now. I thought maybe Willow would come back, but she’s not going to, is she?”

“I dare say not,” the other man admitted. “Sunnydale isn’t a good place for Willow anymore. Perhaps it isn’t a good place for you either.”

Xander frowned. Giles was voicing some of the same thoughts that had been going through his own head for the last few months. Granted, he’d soon diverted them into thinking about how if Spike left everything would be better for everyone, but the fact remained that he’d thought about leaving Sunnydale.

The prospect frightened him more than he could say.

“I don’t know, Giles.”

Giles sighed. He had thought he’d outgrown the parenting role he’d taken on, back when he was the librarian. It was one of the reasons he’d returned to England, so that he didn’t have to be a father-figure any longer. He had convinced himself that they didn’t need him, not really.

The Watcher had been right to a certain extent. There had been those in the group who hadn’t really needed looking after any longer. What Giles hadn’t counted on was the fact that no one ever truly outgrows the need for a parent. There is always a certain comfort in the sense of security that someone is looking out for your best interests. For Xander, that security had been shaken with Buffy’s death, and then had been demolished more surely with Willow’s departure.

The young man needed someone to tell him what he needed to do.

“I think you need to get out of town for a while,” Giles said. “If only to give Spike some time to cool off. I have no doubt that if you run into him in the near future, you may present more of a temptation than he can handle.”

Xander glowered. “Spike can kiss my ass,” he grumbled. “I didn’t—”

“You attacked an innocent boy,” Giles interrupted, his tone severe. “That is not something to be treated lightly. What would have happened had Spike not been there to pull you off?”

Xander couldn’t admit that he would have released Tim immediately, not without completely acknowledging his guilt in the matter. “I wouldn’t have hurt him,” he finally mumbled. There was a long pause while Giles waited for him to continue. “I never meant to hurt anyone, Giles,” he finally whispered. “I just—I wanted things to be like they were. I thought if you—if Willow came back…”

He looked up, his dark eyes meeting Giles’ for the first time. “It’s not ever going to be like it was, is it?” Xander asked plaintively. “They’re gone, and they’re not coming back.”

“No, they’re not coming back, Xander.” Giles looked at the other man with compassion. “They’ve moved on, and it’s time you do the same.”

Xander shook his head. “How? I don’t know how.” Then his shoulders started shaking from tears long repressed. “Tell me how, Giles. God, I miss them so much.”

Giles had no words, and so he simply sat and watched over Xander as he wept for the friends he’d lost, for the life that had passed him by, for the past that was now out of reach.

~~~~~

They had reached the house, both of them silent on the walk back. Tara knew that Spike had badly wanted to hurt Xander, that his protective instincts were driving him to exact revenge. She understood, of course. The expression on Tim’s face had told her exactly how much he’d been hurt. When a person had been scarred as badly as he had been, it was all too easy to re-open old wounds.

At the same time, Xander had obviously been drinking, and he wasn’t in full control of himself. He’d been moving towards doing something stupid for the last few months now, but he hadn’t done any lasting damage. Or, rather, he hadn’t caused any new damage.

She hoped.

Still, Spike was wound up and ready to fight, with her or anyone else who got in his way, and so she stayed silent.

Tara sat on the couch and watched as he paced the living room, finally speaking up. “Why don’t you sit down, Spike?”

“Can’t,” he replied shortly. Spike stopped dead-still in the middle of the floor. “I’m goin’ out. Don’t wait up.”

Tara stood. “Spike, your shoulder—”

“Is fine.” His voice was a virtual snarl. “I need to kill something.” Spike was gone a moment later, and Tara knew that this was one of those times that she couldn’t ask him to stay, not without risking their relationship.

Spike might be willing to do almost anything for those he loved, but he was not quite a tame vamp. Not always.

After a few seconds of dithering, however, Tara reminded herself that she was a full-fledged witch in her own right, and fully capable of taking care of herself on patrol. It was stupid to sit around worrying about the vampire when she could do something about it.

She hurried out of the house after him, and was thankful that Spike wasn’t moving nearly as quickly as he was might have. She caught sight of his dwindling figure, and rushed to catch up with him. “Spike!”

He stopped to wait for her, but his face resembled a thundercloud. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“This isn’t about you needing a babysitter,” she said tartly. “This is about you needing me.”

“Don’t need anyone at the moment, Glinda,” Spike barked. “What I need is space.”

Tara knew that he meant it. If she was going to be wise about this, she’d back off and let him have his space. She would wait until he came to her.

This time, however, Tara really didn’t want to be wise. She wanted to keep him in one piece.

“You’re not fully healed,” she pointed out.

Spike actually growled at her. “I’ve been takin’ care of myself for over a hundred years! I appreciate your concern, but I just need you to back off.”

“I’m not backing off,” Tara shot back. “What happens if you get hurt? Have you thought about what it would do to me to lose you? I need you!”

She had hinted at it in the past week, gently reminded him that she wanted him around, but Tara was tired of subtleties. Her emotion was raw and real and more powerful than any she’d felt in a very long time. Walking away from Willow for a second time had nearly killed her. Losing nearly everything and everyone she’d held dear in one way or another had cut her more deeply than she’d ever admitted.

Tara understood that Spike needed his space, time to deal with the anger that watching Xander attack Tim had engendered. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if Spike wasn’t also running from her because he was uncomfortable letting her see just how angry he was.

He’d told her he was a monster, and that she needed to accept that. Tonight, Tara needed to see it, because she had the feeling that it was the monster that would keep him safe.

Spike was torn between staying and going. He knew that he could run fast enough to lose her. There was no reason that she should see him like this—when he was so close to losing control.

Spike didn’t like it when he was unable to protect those he loved.

In a perfect world, Xander would have kept pushing, would not have broken off his attack, and Spike would have been able to inflict some damage without feeling guilty. In a perfect world, Xander would have been the bad guy, the enemy.

This wasn’t a perfect world.

Spike hated that his soul could feel sympathy with the other man, could understand how the loss of Buffy—and Willow—might make him a little crazy. It angered him that he couldn’t hate Xander, that life wasn’t black and white, that there was nothing he could do to make it so. Spike wanted to hate him, wanted to hurt him, and he couldn’t do either.

And now, Tara wouldn’t let him hurt anything else.

“You don’t need me around while I’m this angry, Tara,” Spike warned. “I’ll hurt you.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me you were a monster?” she demanded. “I can handle it.”

Spike vamped out. “You sure about that?”

In response, Tara kissed him, fangs and all.

It wasn’t actually all that different than kissing Spike when he was wearing his human face, because it was still Spike. Her fingers explored the ridges and bumps of his forehead, her tongue tentatively traced his fangs.

She could hear him groan, and she knew that if they did this it was going to be a wild ride, one where neither of them was in control. It was a frightening prospect.

It was also freeing.

Spike pulled back, staring at her, still not certain that this was what they needed to be doing. He was scared to death of hurting her.

“If you need blood, you can have mine,” she said, meeting his gaze with a strength he had known was there but had never seen.

He swallowed hard. “You sure, pet?” It was a plea and not a challenge this time. It was a bridge Spike had never crossed with Buffy, something she had never allowed him to do. The idea that Tara might let him taste her made him want to run—and it made him want to worship at her feet.

It was, in a sense, the point of no return. The point where this relationship became distinct from every other relationship he had ever had.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” Tara replied. “If you need to unleash the demon tonight, we do it at my place. In my bed.”

His heart would have beaten its way out of his chest if it still beat. Spike nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want you,” Tara replied simply. “That’s all.”

It was enough.

~~~~~

They watched _Monty Python_ because it was silly, and they both needed to laugh. They ate sweet and sour pork and lo mein and egg rolls until they were both full. “Do you want to go to sleep?” Dawn finally asked after the third movie. It was either very late or very early, and Luz was already asleep next to the couch.

Tim shook his head. “Nightmares,” was all he said, but the one word was more than enough. Dawn could understand. For months after Buffy had died, she had dreamed of having to go identify the body. In the dream the woman on the slab had sometimes been her sister, and sometimes her mother.

It had always been horrible.

It was too soon, Dawn knew. She was done jumping into sex, and yet she thought it might be something he needed. That maybe she could give Tim something that no one else could. That, maybe, this was what making love was all about—letting the other person know just how wonderful they really were.

She didn’t say anything; she just lifted up her head from where it rested on his shoulder, and she kissed him. When he started to respond, Dawn moved to straddle his waist, putting her hands on either side of his face and deepening the kiss.

After a few minutes, Tim’s hands slipped under her shirt. She could feel his calloused palms, and the very roughness was erotic—yet another sensation in the overwhelming mixture. It was the scent of his soap, the feel of his skin, the strength that lay in him.

Dawn realized that her love for him was vast—a deep-seated need that went down to her bones.

Her hands got busy undoing the buttons of his shirt, and Tim broke away. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t you want to?” she asked.

He blinked. “More than anything, but you don’t have to—”

“That’s why I want to,” she replied. “I love you.”

Tim realized he wasn’t breathing and started again. “You—”

“I love you.” There those three little words were again, and this time she said them louder and with more emphasis, as though she realized that he might have trouble believing his ears.

He took a deep breath again and took the plunge. “I love you too.”


	30. Chapter 30

**“To love means to communicate to the other that you are all for him, that you will never fail him or let him down when he needs you, but that you will always be standing by with all the necessary encouragements. It is something one can communicate to another only if one has it.” ~Ashley Montagu**

Tara woke to the smell of breakfast, and when she opened her eyes it was to Spike perched on the edge of the bed, a heavy tray in his hands. “Hungry, Tara-luv?”

It was such a change from the previous night, when Spike had been wild and dangerous. It had been a primal night—a wild ride indeed. A line from a poem she’d read for a class went through her mind, “Wild nights, wild nights, were I with thee, wild nights should be our luxury.”

This morning, however, Spike was the picture of the perfect boyfriend, bringing her breakfast in bed. The only suggestion of the night’s previous activities was the rather smug look on his face. It was, in a way, as though she was with two very different men. There was the rough monster—who took care that she was as happy as he was—and the solicitous gentleman.

Knowing as she did that Spike had not changed all that much after getting his soul, Tara had difficulty fully understanding why Buffy had let him go. Not that she didn’t understand the complexities inherent in loving a vampire—especially for the Slayer—but Spike was worth it all.

Breakfast in bed was just a reminder.

“Of course, I’m hungry,” she replied teasingly. “I think I’m still worn out.”

Spike’s gentle fingers caught her under the chin, tipping her head to the side to see his bite marks more fully. “Does it hurt?”

Tara heard the regret mixed with fear in his voice. He was obviously feeling badly about having let himself go so thoroughly, and was concerned that she had changed her mind.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

“No,” she replied, grabbing his hand and bringing it to her lips. “It’s fine, Spike. I wanted this as much as you did.”

A wistful expression passed over his face. “It was good for you then, luv? Wanted to make sure you were satisfied.”

“I think you could say that.” Tara cupped his cheek in her hand. “Spike, I asked you to bite me, remember?”

How could he not remember? She had been screaming it with his name, legs wrapped around him in a grip he might have expected from a Slayer but not from the gentle witch.

Tara was always surprising him.

“Yeah, but—things always look different in the morning, Tara,” Spike pointed out, his voice heavy with knowledge. “Just—I wanted you to know that we don’t have to do it again. If you didn’t want to. Last night was a gift, but if—”

“Is it something you would want to do again?” Tara asked, interrupting him.

Spike blinked. “What?”

“I am not some shrinking violet,” Tara said, a touch of acid on her tongue. “I’m not going to agree to something one night and withhold it from you the next because your demon scares me. Your demon is as much a part of you as your soul, and I fell in love with both.”

Spike’s lips twisted into a half-grin. “I never would have considered you a shrinking violet, pet. Far from it. ‘s just that you might not have enjoyed it, an’ so we wouldn’t have to do it again.”

“I did enjoy myself a lot,” Tara replied. “But that doesn’t matter as much. It was good for you, and I would have been glad to let you drink from me for that reason alone.”

Once again, Spike was thrown off guard. He was a sincere believer in the reciprocity of lovemaking. He received as much pleasure out of making certain his partner was happy as anything else. There was nothing like the expression on a woman’s face after she lay sated, knowing that he had done that. He had given something to her, even if it was only a moment’s physical pleasure, fleeting and insubstantial.

For so long, it had been very nearly the only thing he seemed able to give the women he loved.

Tara’s blood had been rich and hot, sliding down his throat with a glorious strength. Spike had never known a more satisfying ambrosia. That she had given it willingly made it all the sweeter, although once he would have preferred it to be spiced with fear.

That she had lain in his arms afterwards, closing her eyes trustingly, sleeping as deeply as a child in the arms of its mother—it was a priceless gift.

Now she was looking at him again with trust and love, offering herself up to him. Spike could hardly believe that it wasn’t a dream.

For once, he had no words, and so he leaned forward and kissed her. This kiss was light and sweet, undemanding. It held all his love for her. “I love you.”

“I know,” Tara replied with a smug smile. She felt rather like the mouse in Aesop’s fable, who had tamed the lion through kindness. “I love you too, but I’m hungry.”

Spike laughed and presented the tray. “Far be it from me to stand between a woman and her breakfast.”

She smiled sweetly. “That’s because you’re a very intelligent man.”

~~~~~

Tim hadn’t slept, although it wasn’t the fear of nightmares that had kept him awake. Instead, he lay on his side, his head supported by his bent arm. Dawn slept next to him, her hair spread wildly over the pillow, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

With a hesitant hand, Tim traced the outline of her jaw in the air, careful not to touch for fear of waking her. It had been the first time he’d made love, the first time someone had slept through the night—or early morning, anyway—at his side.

It was the first time a girl had said she loved him.

Tim was still waiting to wake up from the dream, which was why he hadn’t been willing to go to sleep. What if Dawn was gone when he woke up? What if it hadn’t meant as much to her as to him? It wasn’t fear so much as it was the desire not to miss a single moment. Tim wanted to replay her words to him a hundred times over.

He still wasn’t sure how it could be true.

Dawn stirred next to him, letting Tim know that she would soon wake. He waited with bated breath, wondering what her first words to him would be, wondering if she was regretting her choice.

Wondering if he had made her happy.

“Hey,” Dawn said with a bright smile. “You’re awake.”

“I didn’t go to sleep,” he replied. “Are you—how are you?”

Dawn knew immediately why he was asking. “I’m really good, especially with you right here.” She grinned at him. “I could get used to this.”

“To what?”

“Seeing you first thing in the morning.”

A shy smile spread over his face. “Me too. I mean, I like being here when you wake up.”

“That settles it, then,” Dawn declared. “We have to do this more often.”

“I could do that,” he agreed, reaching out to push her hair out of her face. “Was it okay?”

Dawn sighed and grabbed his hand. “It was more than okay, Tim.” The sigh was for the insecurity that he was betraying, and she knew that it would never completely go away. They had both been deeply wounded by what life had to throw at them. For Tim, it would probably mean that he would always wonder whether he was worthy to be loved. For her, it would mean that she was always wondering if yet another person would leave.

In the end, Dawn supposed the one thing she had learned was that it didn’t matter if people left, because they would. What mattered was the time you spent with them, what you did while they were with you.

That time might be all you had.

Last night had been more than okay because Dawn had finally got it. She had finally realized that it wasn’t all about her, that for that moment in time at least, _she_ didn’t matter. Her attention had been focused on Tim and on convincing him of his worth.

Tim, in turn, had been trying to do the same thing, which resulted in their lovemaking truly being something of beauty.

Two had become one.

“It wasn’t really about that, though,” Dawn continued, trying to put her thoughts to words. “It was about how I feel about you. You get that, right?”

Tim nodded. “I get it. Thanks.”

“For what?”

He reached out and traced her shoulder, and his touch sent a frisson of desire through her body. “I don’t know. For everything. For staying. For—for understanding.”

“You’re welcome,” Dawn replied, not knowing what else to say. After a moment’s pause, she asked. “Would you do me a favor?”

Tim smiled. “Anything. You know that.”

“I want to get a tattoo,” Dawn said. “Would you go with me?”

“What brought this on?” Tim was not displeased with the idea, but he hadn’t thought it was something Dawn would be interested in doing.

Dawn considered his question, formulating her response. “Because I guess it would be a way to remember my mom and Buffy. I want something permanent.”

Tim nodded, understanding perfectly what she meant. “You know where?”

“I think my back,” Dawn said. “I’m not sure what yet, but—would you help me?”

“Of course.” Tim’s hand went to her lower back, as though to explore the area where the tattoo might go. “We’ll figure out the perfect thing.”

Dawn smiled, unable to keep from believing him. They would figure out the perfect thing somehow. That’s one of the things she loved about him.

~~~~~

To say that Anya wasn’t thrilled with things was putting it mildly. She hadn’t been looking forward to coming back to Sunnydale. There were good memories here, but they were overshadowed by the bad ones. By the memories of the wedding that wasn’t, of having to leave because she couldn’t deal anymore, of being snubbed by the people she thought of as friends.

That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Xander’s desertion had been bad, but when the others turned away from her—the injured party—to comfort him, it had been unbearable. Spike had been the only decent one out of the whole bunch, and he had left too.

Now Giles was talking about taking Xander to England. She wasn’t pleased.

“I don’t understand, Rupert,” Anya said flatly, watching as he turned from the mirror while straightening his tie. The decision had been made to leave the shop closed for the day, but Giles had plans on going in to finish up the last of the book keeping. He had already called Willow and enlisted her support for bringing Xander over to visit.

Anya was not playing the supportive girlfriend role on this one.

“I explained, Anya. Xander needs to get out of Sunnydale for a while.” Giles sighed. “I told you what happened.”

“Yes, you explained, Rupert, but I don’t see why we have to be involved.” Anya fixed him with a glare. “Xander is not your responsibility.”

Giles turned to look at her. “I realize that, Anya, but someone needs to look after him for a time.”

“Why does that someone have to be you?” she demanded. “You know how I feel about this. Put him on a plane and make Willow take care of him.”

“I can’t.” Giles met her eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“Why?” Anya demanded again. “They aren’t your children, Rupert. This isn’t your job anymore.”

Giles turned to her. “They’re all I have left, Anya. They’re all I have left of her.”

Anya stared at him, and then nodded. “I see.”

“You don’t have to speak to him,” Giles coaxed. “All we’re doing is escorting him to Heathrow, where Willow will pick him up. Hopefully she’ll be able to do something, but I’m not taking charge of him.”

Anya frowned. “That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“It’s not like that, Anya. Xander—”

“Xander needs to dry out,” Anya said bluntly. “And he needs to get a clue. If Tim made a wish in front of me, I would grant it.”

Giles looked at her, and then pulled off his glasses to polish the lenses. “I wouldn’t blame you,” he admitted. “We’ll just have to hope that Tim doesn’t make a wish.”

“You can hope that,” Anya muttered. “I think I’ll be hoping for something else.”

~~~~~

Xander stood in front of Dawn’s apartment door, wondering where she was. He had a feeling that it was with Tim, and he supposed it was just as well. While he felt the need to apologize to her and to Tim, he wasn’t sure he was up for it.

“What are you doing here?”

He turned to see Dawn walking towards him, Tim at her side. “Dawn, I—”

“I told you not to come around, Xander.” Dawn’s voice was cold, and he couldn’t help but remember the days when she’d had a crush on him.

Xander swallowed hard. “Dawn, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she replied.

Tim put his hand on her arm. “Dawn, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s really not,” Dawn snapped. “He hurt you.”

“Dawn, let him speak.” Tim had never had anyone apologize for hurting him before. He wanted to know what it felt like. She must have seen some of that in Tim’s face, because she subsided, although her eyes were no less cold.

Xander met Tim’s eyes with difficulty. Somewhere along the line, he had become the bully, and right now he hated himself for that. “I don’t know what got into me,” he admitted hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I just—I’ve decided to get out of town for a while, go see Willow in England. I wanted to tell you that before I left. I know—I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that.”

The younger man regarded him solemnly for a long, quiet moment. “It’s not okay,” he finally said. “But you didn’t hurt me that badly. Not as bad as you could have.” Tim wasn’t about to pull his punches. “You need to get help before you do something really stupid.”

“I know,” Xander replied. “I’m sorry,” he repeated again. He looked over at Dawn. “Dawnie—”

“We all miss her, Xander,” Dawn said quietly. “Buffy would have wanted you to live, though. You’re killing yourself right now.”

“That’s why I’m leaving for a while, to kind of get my head on straight,” Xander said. “I don’t—I don’t think I’ll see Tara before I leave. Will you tell her that I’m happy for her? Even if I don’t understand it, I’m happy that she’s doing okay.”

Dawn nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

They didn’t hug. Xander stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away slowly, his shoulders hunched over as though he had the weight of the world on his back. Dawn watched him go, knowing that it spelled yet another end for her. Xander was really the last of the Scoobies, and she didn’t see him returning to Sunnydale.

He would find another city, another life—one where he could forget about Buffy, and the Hellmouth, and everything else. Dawn wondered if that wasn’t the way things usually worked. You could not live an extraordinary life and then go back to normal, not without a certain amount of forgetfulness.

Xander would learn to be content without the Slayer, as they all had had to do.

Dawn felt Tim’s arm go around her shoulders. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dawn looked up into his yellow-green eyes, and she knew that she had made her own peace. Buffy would have approved. “With you, I am.”

~~~~~

“They get off alright?” Spike asked when Tara came through the front door.

Tara smiled at him. “Fine. I think Anya was happier knowing that Xander decided to fly over by himself.”

Spike knew Anya was happier. They had finally managed to go out to dinner with the six of them, and he and the vengeance demon had managed to have a drink together for old time’s sake. It had been an odd conversation, in a way, mirroring that disastrous evening in the Magic Box, the one that had started him on this journey.

This time, however, neither one of them had had any complaints at all. They had toasted each other’s health, and met one another’s eyes, acknowledging the folly of loving a mortal. They had left unspoken the courage that both displayed by taking a chance on love again. Indeed, in fifty years’ time, perhaps they would meet to share another drink, and another night of solace. They were linked together in an odd sort of intimacy that comes out of shared pain.

It had been a good night, and had marked the closing of a chapter. With Xander already departed for England, Sunnydale was being left to the hands of the people who had never pretended to be heroes.

After all, pretense isn’t necessary when it was all truth.

“I imagine she’s just happy knowin’ she’s the only woman in the world that Rupert loves,” Spike observed.

Tara smiled in reply. “I can see that. It’s always nice to know you’re the one.”

They kissed then, both relaxing in the presence of the other. “Then you should know that you’re the one,” Spike replied softly. “Don’t know what I’d have done if I’d missed seein’ you the night we got into town. To not have this—”

When he stopped, Tara smiled, hearing the sincerity in his voice. “It would have been a tragedy.”

“In five bloody acts.” Spike looked down at her, his blue eyes intense. “I love you, you know. More than the world.”

Tara touched his cheek. “I know. The feeling is mutual.”

And their useless desires were finally laid to rest.


End file.
